


Land of Kinks and Ficlets

by chelonianmobile



Category: Bendy Kitten, Homestuck
Genre: Asexual Character, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Blindness, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Bondage, Boot Worship, Breathplay, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Comedy, Crack, Drowning, Dubcon or Noncon Moirallegiance, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Facials, Fire, First Time, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Guro, Haircuts, Hermaphrodites, Humanstuck, Intersex, Kink Meme, Kissing, Kittens, Knifeplay, Maledom, Mind Control, Multi, Muteness, Pain, Painplay, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Penis Size, Perfume, Petplay, Piercings, Polyamory, Scissoring, Sensory Deprivation, Shoes, Slavery, Snakes, Spanking, Species Swap, Strip Tease, Tattoos, Teen Pregnancy, Tentabulges, Tentacle Rape, The Talk, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trickster Mode, Trollstuck, Unrequited Crush, Vaginismus, Vampires, Wax, Whipping, Xeno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 44
Words: 20,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelonianmobile/pseuds/chelonianmobile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various short kinkmeme fills, kept together to avoid spamming the archive. Ratings run the full gamut, browse with care. All characters in graphic sexual situations can be assumed to be aged up to legal unless otherwise specified and/or unnecessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Terezi/Kanaya, kissing, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: randomly assigned pairing, Libra/Virgo.

Prospit is all sweetness, soft honey golds surrounding her, the sugar shells of the people covered with candy pastels, the bright spearmint blue and white of Skaia above, and a tiny drop of strong wine against the blackness when Derse is in view. She flies and drinks in the surrounding sugar, flavours she rarely tasted for real before her lusus taught her how to find them in light. Manufactured foods are hard for even a tealblood to come by on Alternia; the adults of the fleet take the best pickings for themselves from the food supply planets before shipping any down.

A familiar blur of ash grey and black in the streets calls her down. Trolls all smell the same until she gets close, but only one other is awake here. The company of her own kind is welcome.

Kanaya is dressed in gold, the same as Terezi herself; she restyles her outfit every time she wakes, but cannot change the colour. She greets Terezi with a kiss.  


Her lips are green, her tongue green blooded, fresh and herbal, renewing Terezi's palate after Prospit's endless sugar. She feels refreshed, and licks up the smudged green makeup from her own mouth.


	2. MTF!Jade/FTM!Dave, pregnancy, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "MTF Jade knocks up FTM Dave. Everyone is confused."

EB: i can't believe you did that!

TG: eh  
TG: what can i say  
TG: got hit by a bad case of damn girl you fine and lost a gamble

EB: dave, sixteen is WAY too young for this!  
EB: you're especially way too young to be keeping it!

TG: who else is gonna keep it for us  
TG: we dont wanna get rid of it and my bro wasnt much older than me when he picked me up  
TG: and hey we gotta get to repopulating anyway

EB: i think we were supposed to use the ectobiology machines for that?

TG: my ways more fun

EB: okay, okay, if this is what you and jade want i'll help you out however i can.  
EB: how long till the baby comes anyway?

TG: gimme a moment to work it out the constant time travel in this stupid game isnt helping  
TG: geez i can keep track of stable time loops but i forget this how distracted do i even have to BE to DO something like that  
TG: uhh bout four more months give or take a week

EB: have you told your bro yet? or grandpa harley?

TG: sure theres no problem there

EB: bro and grandpa, not dirk and jake.

TG: yes man sheesh what do you take me for  
TG: theyre fine  
TG: bros sewing little outfits already and thank bilious slick they dont look like that stupid puppets kit  
TG: grandpas telling us he wishes hed had jade in the normal way so he could tell embarrassing stories about her hypothetical moms pregnancy  
TG: its all good the baby will be fine with us

EB: okay, that's great!  
EB: heheh, i get to be uncle john!

TG: okay i know youre not so into con air anymore but dont try to make us name it after the cute little kid in whatever other shitty movies youre into okay

EB: understood.  
EB: so how's jade holding up? i mean, pregnancy's a big thing, is she doing okay?

TG: jade  
TG: oh  
TG: we forgot to tell you didnt we

EB: tell me what?

Dave took the iShades off and leaned back in the icecream-stained scalemate pile, clutching his swollen stomach. He knew he should have brought this up sooner.


	3. Rose/Aradia & Porrim, tattoos, T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tattoos.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine! Don't fuss."

Rose believes her. Aradia's died enough times, she should have no problem here. Still, she gently grips her hand and allows Aradia to squeeze.

Porrim draws the needle delicately across the skin, and Aradia never moves as it rounds her shoulder, flinches only slightly as it crosses her collarbone, grips Rose's hand tighter as it curls down her chest.

Finally it's finished. Porrim draws back with a nod. Rose's fingers brush the skin, careful not to touch the ink design.

A rose vine, a rust red bloom just above her heart.


	4. Dave/Jade, shoes, T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dave/Jade shoe fetish.

Her calves are muscled, her feet small; polished red leather curves around her foot, accentuates the delicacy of her ankles. The heel's height gives her a stately presence, and she walks without a wobble. She sees him watching her feet admiringly, and skips into a brief dance, the new leather creaking as she sings.

_"And this curve is your smile..."_

He catches her hand, and leads her to the chair. He kneels, and takes hold of her leg as she buries her fingers in his hair. He brushes dust from the leather, and his pulse pounds like a dancer's footsteps.


	5. Terezi/Feferi, boot kink, M

Feferi is tall, so the golden zippers have a long way to travel. Terezi pulls the left one slowly up Feferi's leg, from her delicate ankle over her muscled calf, shining fuschia leather covering the soft grey skin. Terezi plants little kisses as she goes, locking them inside. The top of the boot reaches just an inch below the point where Feferi's plump thigh joins her body, and Terezi squeezes the soft flesh of her hip before moving to the right leg.

The zippers are tipped with rubies. Terezi grins. Feferi's manicured hand massages her horns. "Help me get up." Terezi takes Feferi's hand and helps her up from the couch. The spike heels are ridiculously high, and Feferi stumbles. "Oh glub! I am so not used to this," she groans. "Why did I let you talk me into this? I'm better at swimming than walking as it is..."

Terezi silences her with a kiss. "Don't try and you'll never learn."

Hand in hand, they complete a wobbly circuit of the room, and Terezi pushes Feferi against the wall for her reward. She kneels and licks the leather, tasting berry shine, and pulls Feferi's panties aside for a similar flavour.


	6. Dad Egbert/Mom Lalonde, scarf bondage, M

Such a very long scarf would seem terribly impractical at first glance, but Mr Egbert has discovered that it has its uses. Around the wrists, circle her dainty waist, and up between the legs to knot in the small of her back, and the wrist end still has enough length to tie to the strong cord hanging from the ceiling hook. The fine pink wool is soft, but still rubs her milky skin to a deeper pink, the same shade as her scanty silken lingerie. She squirms appreciatively and purses her lips, still neatly painted plum, and nods to his pipe. From it, he lights a cigarette and pops it between her lips, after stealing a kiss which tastes faintly of alcohol; her favourite vodka overlaid with the rose wine they shared earlier.

He kneels down and, with the care of a man disarming a bomb, removes her stiletto heels, leaving her tottering on tiptoe, her weight pressing her bindings against her. She gasps through teeth gritted around the cigarette filter, her composure slowly eroding, and her face turns the same shade as her scarf. A slap, a delighted squeal, and her rump now bears a handprint the same colour.


	7. Unrequited Vriska/John & Karkat/John, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Vriska/John, "I am not a heterosexual."

"Fucker."

The bottle smashed against the wall.

"Beer me."

Karkat slapped a fresh bottle into Vriska's hand. She popped the cap on her horn, and drank.

"Fuck the prankster's gambit all to hell."

"So, are you going to tell me what he said some time this week?" Karkat said, opening a bottle for himself. "I guessed it didn't go well when you ripped my block's door off its hinges and screamed 'fuck John Egbert with a rusty spork'. You're fixing that door, by the way."

"Oh, who caaaaaaaares about your stupid door?" Vriska sighed, throwing her hands up and cursing as doing so sloshed beer into her hair. "I thought you of all people could sympathise with my suffering at the hands of that little nooktease of a pink monkey!" She slumped onto the floor, sighing again and throwing a hand over her forehead dramatically.

"It would be easier to sympathise if you told me what actually happened."

"Well." Vriska sat up with a scowl and cleared her throat. "Well, I thought it was going great. I set up the candles and didn't set anything on fire, he brought candy, and we were watching Wherein An Attractive Seadweller Enlists The Help Of-"

"Okay, I don't need to know every detail. Did you make your move?"

"Yeah. Usual routine, yawn and stretch, you know. Works better on hornless species, I'll say that." Vriska moved her arm in the appropriate motion to demonstrate. "And he looked up at me and said-" here she pitched her voice into a squeak, "'Vriska, are you coming on to me?' So of course I said yes!"

"Whoa." Karkat shook his head. "No wonder you scared him off."

"I did not! That wasn't the problem," Vriska protested. "So he looked at me for a moment, and then took my arm off him and said he was sorry but he couldn't. I asked why, and he says, get this... 'I am not a heterosexual'."

Karkat stared for a moment, then chugged the rest of his beer and opened another. "You're right. Fuck John Egbert."

Vriska rolled her eyes and pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. "Stupid space monkeys. What the hell is this 'A.V.E.N.' thing anyway?"


	8. Gamzee/Eridan, piercings, M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for "Hankiestuck"; looking up the trolls' blood colour in the gay community's traditional "hankie code" and using it as a kink prompt. Purple is for piercings.

It's summer, and the thermal hull contains a tray of ice Gamzee keeps meaning to use. Laziness and thirst tends to lead him to swig straight from the bottles, which he then flings out the window, Eridan recalls with a scowl. Still, the ice is useful for something now. The night's warm and sticky, the open window letting in the smell of salt but not enough breeze, and Eridan thinks he used too much cologne; the light scent becomes cloying in the heat. He rolls a cold soda bottle back and forth on his chest, gills fluttering, as Gamzee presses an ice cube to his fin until it numbs.

"Is this gonna hurt?"

"A bit," Gamzee admits. He tilts his head, and his hair falls away to expose the silver rings in his left ear. More pierce the right, and matching barbells pierce his exposed grubscars. "Don't worry, I got this."

Eridan's glad Gamzee no longer gets the sopor shakes. He needs a steady hand for this. Meltwater runs down his neck, and he shivers. Gamzee pinches his fin, and he feels pressure but no pain. He's ready.

In one hand, Gamzee holds Eridan's fin; in the other, a pin. He lets Eridan take a deep breath, and suddenly forces the pin through the skin. Eridan tenses; he felt the jab, and it sent electric waves through him. Now the skin's warming again, and he feels his pulse around the tiny wound. Gamzee leaves the pin in, and holds the remains of the ice cube to it again. Eridan shifts his legs uncomfortably, warmth swelling in his gut as it leaches from his fin. The pin shifts in him, and he gasps.

"Hurts?"

"No." Now steady hands aren't important, Eridan's own hand reaches out and plucks at one of Gamzee's barbells, eliciting a whine. Eridan's clawtips pull it gently back and forth, twist it slightly. "Does this?"

The pin slides out of his fin, and Eridan whimpers at the loss before it's replaced with a sliver of gold, cold against the heat of his skin. Gamzee screws the tiny cap onto the tip, and sits back to observe his handiwork, wiping violet off his claw. Eridan goes to touch the new embellishment, and Gamzee holds up a warning hand. "Don't play with it! Get it infected that way." He picks up the bottle of disinfectant. "Okay, now this is gonna motherfucking hurt." He's right. Eridan hisses sharply between his teeth at the sting, and Gamzee ruffles his hair and leaves a greasepaint kiss below the piercing. "You did good, fish."

Eridan's shifting his hips, trying to rub against the beanbag chair. Gamzee looks at him quizzically for a second, before Eridan pulls him into a kiss, fangs piercing each other's lips as effectively as the pin. Eridan shoves Gamzee down and latches his mouth over his left grubscar. Gamzee's blood is warmer than Eridan's, but the metal is cold.  
Gamzee gasps, and laughs, baring another barbell in his tongue.

"Gotta get you a set of these."

Eridan releases the bar between his teeth long enough to say "Maybe later."


	9. Karkat<>Gamzee & Bendy Kitten fluff, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request was for Karkat fluff with a kitten and optional GamKar. With apologies to Daegaer, to the real life humans owned by Bendy Kitten the small wobbly bringer of peace and love, and to Calming Manatee and the human typist:  
> http://daegaer.livejournal.com/tag/bendy%20kitten  
> http://www.handicappedpets.com/bendy/  
> http://calmingmanatee.tumblr.com/

Bendy Kitten did not like this strange place. It was very cold and rather dark, and the floors were all nasty hard metal which hurt his bendy little paws. Worst of all, the Big People around him - not Very Big People, but much bigger than a little kitten, and all a funny grey colour - were not paying attention to him.

mew, he said.

Suddenly, he was scooped up by two Big People hands, with grey skin and nice sensible sharp claws like a proper cat. Bendy Kitten approved very much.

"Nepeta, did you bring this thing here?" said the Big Person's voice. "We have enough trouble feeding ourselves here, unless you meant us to eat it, not that there's enough on it..."

mew, said Bendy Kitten again. The Big Person seemed terribly grumpy, and he was letting Bendy Kitten's back legs dangle in a most uncomfortable way. Luckily the Big Person must have noticed, as he then sat Bendy Kitten down on one hand and held him under the bendy front legs with the other, as kittens should be held. Bendy Kitten purred as the Big Person held him up for a closer look. This Big Person had very scruffy hair and very sleepy eyes, and looked as grumpy as he sounded.

"Look, freaky mewbeast, I don't know where you came from, but we're a little busy with our entire universe being destroyed, so we can't feed you or play with you right now," he said. That made Bendy Kitten very sad. He wished he could tell the sad Big People how to call his friend Calming Manatee; he was only one little kitten and there were lots of them.

"Aww, don't be all motherfuckin' mean, Karbro," said a Bigger Person, this one with even scruffier hair. "He's just wantin' to get his hug on, aren't you, little guy? Huh?" He gently poked Bendy Kitten with one long clawed finger, and Bendy Kitten purred again. "See?"

The Smaller Big Person only looked grumpier, but let the Bigger Person take Bendy Kitten and hug him. The Bigger Person smelled very funny indeed, and when he held Bendy Kitten up to his face Bendy Kitten's fur got all filled with sticky white stuff.

"Hey, be careful with him, you clumsy bastard!" snapped the Smaller Big Person. "If you drop him you have to clean up the kitten mulch."

The Bigger Person only laughed and put Bendy Kitten on the Smaller Big Person's head. It was very comfortable; these Big People had horns on their heads, and Bendy Kitten could lean against one horn and not fall off. The hair was very scruffy indeed, and Bendy Kitten busied himself licking it to tidy it up. The Bigger Person laughed very hard at this, and the Smaller Big Person kindly held Bendy Kitten still as he turned to look at himself in the shiny metal wall. Bendy Kitten watched the grumpy face beneath him, and saw the Smaller Big Person's lip twitch into a very tiny smile.


	10. Doc Scratch & Handmaid, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for Doc Scratch giving the Handmaid an unwanted haircut as punishment.

He took away her movement privileges. She cannot even blink as he wraps her hair around one hand and raises the scissors in the other. Scissors borrowed from Stitch, that cut the lengths of thread used to mend the Felt, and that now cut to break her.

She feels cold metal on her neck, out of her reach, and a sudden lightness following the silvery sound.

The door closes behind him. She lunges after him, trips on the loops of hair still coiled around her feet, and is frozen again on hands and knees. Tears fall to join her hair.


	11. Condesce/Karkat, slavery, petplay, piercings, M

Rubies glow in gold in regimented rows around his neck and wrists and ankles, and along the fine chains connecting each bracelet together and his neck to the wall. More adorn his horns, his hair finally brushed enough to lie flat and show them off properly. The red gems match the silken pillows he sits curled up on, and the unhealed wounds covering his barely adult body, which deepen every day. His wrists are rubbed raw by the bracelets. He hasn't stopped fighting, and she wonders if - no, when - he will.

The tag on his collar is entirely unnecessary, as he spends his life chained either to her throne or to her wrist when she wishes to show him around without permitting him to slip his leash. It has no words engraved on it, but the fuschia pink diamond set in it makes his owner's identity clear.

Every time he disobeys an order, a new ring is placed in one or other of his ears. He has almost as many earrings as she herself does by now, and she secretly tells him she's impressed with his defiance and hopes he never stops. She wonders how much weight his ears can take before they rip.

He refuses to shut up after weeks and weeks of her best attempts. She fits him with a muzzle of her own design, with a bar clamped to a bejewelled piercing in his tongue.

She catches him starving himself to give his food to the common slaves. She recalls what she knows of mammals, and laughs to herself as she finds an appropriately symbolic punishment; though his grubscars cannot give milk as a mammal mother's teats would, she mockingly asks if he would let others suck him dry if they did. They're in the right location and they hurt just as much when heavy rings are looped through them.

He manages to work his chain free of the wall bracket. He makes it to the dock before he is caught. She binds him spreadeagled, holds his bulge, and wields a needle.

"Hold still, pet."


	12. GH<3<Dualscar, fire/waxplay, E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for GH/Dualscar, "the candlewax thing".

He lost again. He hates it when he loses. He squirms, grinding not quite intentionally and certainly not satisfyingly against the filthy sticky silk. His hands are bound to the cagelike steel bars of the head of the Grand Highblood's pailing couch; the bindings are what remains of his own cloak. At least now his face isn't being forced into the pillow, but his own struggling is rubbing the bare skin on the back of his thighs raw against the rough cloth the Highblood is still wearing.

Something warm drips onto the back of his fin, and he thinks it's saliva until another warmer drop lands, and another, hot enough to smart, and then a line of liquid fire down his spine. He hisses between his teeth and manages to turn his head enough to see the Highblood toying with a fat black candle, plucked from the ribcage candelabra beside the couch.

The Highblood snickers. "You're a seagoer, I'm sure you know the song. _All the nice girls love a candle, all the nice girls love a wick..."_ Dualscar thrashes as the Highblood half-sings, drawing swirls and zigzags on his back with dripping wax and pulls it into new patterns with his claws. "Shall I see if there's any truth to it?" He shifts back, and Dualscar feels warmth in a place he really doesn't want it. The blunt cold end of the candle presses against his opening and he tries not to squirm again, not wanting to make matters worse. Luckily, the Highblood apparently decides against it; unluckily, he has something else in mind, and Dualscar yells as the hot wax draws lines on him again, this time on his left buttock, a thin trickle running down between his legs and mercifully cooling and stopping before it hits more sensitive flesh. The Highblood is reading out the words it forms; "Property... of... the... High... Subjugglator." He chuckles and heartily spanks the unmarked side. "Stop whining, it's not that fucking hot. Maybe I'll use that as guidelines for a tattoo, give you something to really bitch about."

"Did you at least check your fucking spelling?"

Dualscar screams as the Highblood stubs out the candle inside his gills.


	13. Ashen AraTerEqu, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for an auspistice stabilising a turbulent quadrant. I ship these three pretty hard now. This fic is Hivefled canon :)

"Equius?"

The blueblood's hand jerked, and his pliers tore a large hole in the sheet of metal he'd been attempting to reshape. "Fiddlesticks... Ahem. What is it, Pyrope?"

Terezi's arms were folded, one hand able to move enough to slap her cane rhythmically against her hip, and her face was stern. "I hear you and Aradia have been flip-flopping quite a lot lately."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"She told me. On one hand she's got you flipping left and right, and on the other Sollux can't figure out whether he wants her in red and Feferi pale or vice versa or something else entirely, and Tavros is caught up somewhere in her red and pale quadrants as well, and she's feelings-jamming with me because she doesn't know whether it's okay with either of them from one minute to the next..." Terezi tutted. "Don't you think enough's enough?"

Aradia appeared in the doorway, having heard Terezi enter; today they were in the black and she'd borrowed the bathroom to clean her wounds after a particularly rough battle. It had been bad enough before the robots got involved. She arrived just in time to hear Equius cough nervously and say "Indeed, a more stable relationship can only benefit us, but addiction is a powerful thing."

"Well, I'm not going to let this go on any more," said Terezi decisively. "Aradia's my friend, and she deserves at least one stable quadrant."

Aradia cleared her throat to alert the others to her presence. "What are you suggesting? Um, I'm sorry I've been intruding on you so much recently, but I don't think we'd... I'm not pale for you, I just needed someone to talk to."

"I wasn't thinking of that," Terezi chuckled lightly, not her usual screech. "Think a bit greyer." Aradia blinked and blushed.

"Are you intending to auspisticise us?" Equius frowned, cracking his glasses again. "And if I choose not to submit to the instructions of one beneath m- _argh!"_

Terezi's cane had whacked against his horn stump. Aradia giggled as Equius staggered about, clutching his head, eyes watering almost as profusely as his sweat glands. He groaned and glared at Terezi.

"Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Of course I do, why d'you think I did it?"

"Stop whining, I thought you liked pain."

"Not... that particular variety." Equius leaned against his workbench and sat down heavily on the floor, the tiles cracking under him. "Owww."

Terezi snickered. "Look, I know you, Equius. You like things to be in neat labelled metaphorical boxes, and your constant flipping wasn't. Now you can have a good solid quadrant. Don't think of it as me ordering you, think of me as an advisor. C'mon, it's worth a try."

Aradia hugged her. "Thanks."

Equius nodded, and found himself with a lapful of two grinning female trolls.

"Now, shall we celebrate?"

"W-what?" Equius spluttered, trying to dislodge the girls without injuring them. "N-no, ashen's not a pailing quadrant! How terribly inappropriate..."

"Do you see a bucket anywhere?" Terezi waved a hand, indicating the absence of such a receptacle. "Nobody ever said sloppy ashen makeouts weren't allowed. Trust me, I'm a legislacerator. Loopholes are my thing."

"Call it a reward for agreeing to make peace," said Aradia, smirking.

Equius thought about it, and allowed Aradia's lips to brush his while Terezi's tongue explored his ear. "I think I like loopholes."


	14. Gam<>Equ<>Nep, G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Equius, Gamzee, and Nepeta in poly-pale. One of my crackships :)

The bow snapped in his hands, the wood giving way like a toothpick in a vice. Fraction by fraction, Makara's smile widened, his eyes narrowed. Equius' pulse raced and his sweat turned cold as the highblood approached, soft honking snickers echoing throughout the room. His leg throbbed; he shook as he tried and failed to stand.

The bowstring looped around his neck, once, twice...

One huge hand wrapped loosely but irremovably around Gamzee's wrist with a soft _pap._

"I'm sorry, Makara, I can't let you do that."

It was the first time he had addressed Gamzee by name.

Gamzee pulled back with a grunt of surprise, attempting to extract his hand. He failed, and started to flail wildly with the bow, snarling and kicking. Equius ignored the blows, using his free hand to push himself to his feet; if he leaned his weight on Gamzee's arm the highblood would end up with a broken wrist. The bow opened a fresh crack in his glasses, and the left lens fell out. He ignored that too, forcing Gamzee to his knees in turn and looming over him. Gamzee screamed and spat and bit at the hand approaching his face. Equius swallowed hard, tensed his wrist, and let his hand make contact.

_Pap._

Gamzee's mouth snapped shut in surprise. A deep purple bruise was already starting to form under Equius' hand. The blueblood swallowed hard, and shifted his hand ever so slightly, decreasing the pressure and stroking soothingly. Gamzee stopped struggling, and froze.

"Makara." Sweat poured down Equius' face, followed by a tear. "Gamzee. Gamzee, calm down."

Gamzee roared and lunged again, stopped by Equius' hand. The thick fingers stroked along his cheek, down the bridge of his nose. He stilled again, leaning into the touch, and made a confused "honk?"

"Gamzee." Equius was shaking now, teeth drawing blood from his lip as tears leaked down his face. "Gamzee, all I've ever wanted was to see you become better. To be a true highblood. But this is not how."

A rush of air and the sound of flapping cloth alerted them both to Nepeta leaping down from the vent. Equius jerked away from Gamzee and spun to see her land lightly behind him. "N-Nepeta! Nepeta, I..."

She didn't look angry, merely surprised. She stalked around them, sizing them up. She frowned. "Well, I can't say I saw this one coming. Tsk. I suppose even I can have an off day."

Equius' face crumpled, the other lens of his glasses cracking further, and he choked out "Nepeta, I'm sor-"

"Shoosh," she murmured, petting his hand. "Shoosh. I get it." Her hand only wrapped around three of his fingers.

"No, no, you don't get it..." he mumbled, looking frantically from one to the other. Gamzee was starting to tense up again, a growl rising in his throat and his grip on his club adjusting. Equius stifled a sob. "He needs someone, but I need you..."

Gamzee's club started to move, and was stopped by Nepeta's hand. She squeezed it firmly, then took his other hand and led it to Equius', allowing her moirail's free hand to envelop hers. Both stared as they realised she wasn't letting go of either of them.

"It's okay. Really." She chuckled, tears rising in her own eyes. "It's kind of a crack ship, but I think it can work."

Gamzee coughed, and croaked "... kittysis?" The skin-crawling echo was gone from his voice. His hand loosened in Nepeta's just enough to drop the club, and his fingers hooked through hers.

"First rule of shipping wars," Nepeta told him. "The OT3 solves everything."

Nepeta found herself squeezed firmly between the two larger trolls as Gamzee swept her up and wrapped his arms around Equius. Very slowly and carefully, Equius looped his arms around the two, leaving space between them to avoid injury. Nepeta nuzzled up to him, and started to purr.


	15. Jade/Rose, stripping, inappropriate music, M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for femslash with stripping, and I remembered that I always thought this song had a good beat to strip to, albeit horribly inappropriate lyrics, but if the dancer knows what they're doing who'd pay attention to that?

Rose sits at the dressing table in her lilac nightgown and brushes her hair, one hundred strokes precisely, watching Jade sway and hum to the background music. Her hair is freshly washed and dried and brushed as well, braided up with ribbons to prevent knotting as they sleep. Soft music pours from speakers hooked up to Jade's iPod, set on shuffle, lulling them to relax.

The song changes. Rose vaguely recognises the new one. Oregonian hipster pseudo-folk, much more Jade's thing than hers, and decidedly sinister; an Irish murder ballad, not something a normal person would listen to before bed. Nobody ever claimed either of them were normal. She doesn't change it.

Jade chuckles, still swaying, the hems of her baggy blue pyjamas and fluffy white bathrobe swinging around her ankles. "You know, it's funny - I always thought this would be a good song to strip to. It's got the right beat..."

"Well, then?"

Jade's eyes, small without her glasses, widen slightly, then crease in a wicked smile. Her hands slide up to her pyjama buttons. Her hips rock gently with the beat, left to right, and one button pops out, then another, in perfect time with the plucking of the guitar. She finishes the buttons and lets them hang open under her still-present bathrobe, the belt still tied, revealing just enough to tease. Rose moves to the bed and settles down to watch, not so much clapping to the beat - it's not really a song nor a dance that should be clapped to - as gently moving her hands together and apart, silently.

Jade filled out well over the years, and when the waist cord of her pyjamas is undone her hips hold them up when they slide down from her narrow waist. Rose stops moving her hands and twines her fingers together, eyes on the slice of bare skin above Jade's hips, wanting to squeeze the soft flesh. Next goes the belt from her bathrobe, pulled ever so slowly through the loops until it comes free with a flourish, falling open and allowing her pyjama top to open wider, though not quite wide enough. Jade giggles; she never did quite grow into her front teeth, and they squeeze a dent into her lower lip when she looks at Rose's lightly flushed cheeks. She mentally vows to do this more often, possibly with more appropriate music. She throws one end of the belt to Rose, letting go as her partner takes it and reflexively wraps her hands in it. Jade draws the bathrobe tight around herself, giggling again at Rose's look of mock disappointment, and one-handedly unties her right braid. The green ribbon goes in her bathrobe pocket as the hair unwinds a little on its own, then the other braid follows, and Jade lowers both arms and lets the robe slide off.

"I do hope you will hang that up when you're done," Rose says, a smile twitching her lip.

"Shoosh, Rose, I'm just getting to the good part!"

Jade's pyjama top falls to the floor, soft cloth finally exposing softer skin, and she runs her hands through her hair, pushing it up and letting the curls fall around her bare shoulders. Her breasts sway gently as she moves, one step forward, then another, until her knee is between Rose's legs and her hands on Rose's upper arms. Rose gives her a little assistance with the last item, thumbs hooking in her waistband and drawing the pyjama bottoms down as Jade moves up onto the bed.

Jade licks her lips and sings along with the final chorus; _"'Cos everybody knows if you don't mind your mother's words..."_

Rose speaks along softly, combing through Jade's wavy hair with her fingers. _"A wicked wind will blow your ribbons from your curls..."_

 _"Everybody moan, everybody shake..."_ Jade's hand moves up under Rose's nightgown, and Rose does indeed moan. _"The Shankill Butchers want to catch you... the Shankill Butchers want to cut you..."_

Their lips brush as they sing the final line together, smiling. _"The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake..."_

The iPod switches to the next track, a light violin instrumental, and neither of them notice.


	16. Snowman/Nepeta, nonconsensual strangling, stabdads, T

The girl is tiny, ragged, fierce as a rabid wildcat. Her claws sliced through the Felt as easily as they would cut butter, and the injured mobsters lurk on the sidelines, nursing or stitching their wounds. Her big friend is out cold, blood oozing from the whip-cuts on his face and the crowbar wound on the back of his head. She stands over him, proud and unbroken.

"Where are your daughters?"

Madam "the Scourge" Snowman allows herself a tiny cold smirk. "Now why would you need to fight your way in here to ask me that? Surely you don't think they were harmed at our hands?"

"Why would you be so desperate to keep us out if they were fine?"

The girl sees the whip coming for her, and ducks, but not quick enough; it wraps around her neck, and she barks out one quick puff of air before the whip tightens and closes off her windpipe. Snowman pulls her in close, wrapping another loop and another as the girl tries to claw the leather off without cutting her own throat with those ridiculous gloves. Her face is pale with terror, eyes watering. Her claws leave gashes on her face and chest, and on Snowman's hands. She rasps as she tries to catch another breath, a noise again like a snarling cat. Snowman unwraps two fingers from the whip and strokes the girl's hair, cooing softly, "There, puss, shoosh, good kitty..."

The girl goes limp, and Snowman drops her. She's alive, just about, limp and unresponsive. From wildcat to dead fish, Snowman thinks, and smirks again. "Tie their hands and lock them in the basement. The boss will want to know about this."


	17. Snowman/Slick, whip, T

The sting threatens to crack his shell, the pain spreading through the chitin plate she struck. The tip of the whip catches him under the chin, and he falls against the wall. She struts up, shimmering, raises his chin with the whip handle, examines the scratch mark she left.

The whip dangles in his reach; he catches it, throws it up and loops it round her neck, pulls her forward. He twists it, not enough to kill, he's not stupid, but enough to hurt.

She smirks, phases free, and strikes him across the face. A good fight, but not enough.


	18. Darkleer/Redglare, G

She slid in through the window at dawn, swathed in a lightproof cloak just in case. He finds her beside his recuperacoon; she clicks her heels, draws up to attention, and throws a salute. "Neophyte Redglare reporting for duty, sir!"

He's used to her sneaking in at odd hours. He sighs. "I'm no longer an officer, Redglare."

"As long as I wear this, you're my superior officer," she says, pulling the Sufferist sign from beneath her collar and bringing it to her lips. "You filled a needed role and set him free from pain. There are those of us who do remember, and I thank you. I'm sure he would too. I wish you wouldn't punish yourself so for it."

Physically, the similarities are not many, but the spark in her eye and the set to her jaw, the smooth sharp movements, the sweet red dragonfire in her heart, all remind him very much of another girl he briefly knew, the one he last saw disappearing into the night in a swirl of hair and pelt and candy-red-stained cloth. Also of the other woman who visits him with news sometimes, the pirate, forceful as a tsunami, vicious and selfish and yet almost a friend to him. And a little of the empress, in her graceful pride and deadly razor-sharpness. He seems to attract these women like bees to honey (crackling scarlet candy, sweet pale sugar, sickly black treacle), and he will keep getting stung.

He sighs again. "Stand easy, Neophyte," he says, and she relaxes and throws her cloak over the 'coon. She extends her hands, and he lifts her up.

She's tiny in his arms, sharp and brittle as glass, and he fears to break her, not just for her sake but from fear he'll cut himself as well. She is his lifeline, and causing her pain would hurt him far worse. She seems vulnerable enough already, the doll in the arms of the giant, but she has one last touch to add; she takes off her glasses, teal meets ultramarine, and then their lips do the same.


	19. Equius & Darkleer fluff, G

The dreambubble has met another, but the difference is almost imperceptible; it is still very dark, and very lonely, and very cold. Still, a new bubble is a new bubble, and perhaps there will be someone, anyone, to talk to. Equius wanders aimlessly, unsure whether to shout for the inhabitant. He finds a staircase cut into a mountainside, and a warm light glimmers at the top. A run-up, and one strongjump lands him at the door. The stones crack under his feet; the sound must have alerted the owner, as he hears furniture moving and heavy footsteps inside.

He looks up at the sigil above the door. Oh.

Firelight falls over him for a moment as the door opens, and then is blocked out by a troll broader than the door. Blue glimmers in the blackness, and Equius recognises the horns. The enormous troll looks down, and stops dead.

Equius drops to one knee, hair hanging in his face, the back of his neck exposed. Vriska was right. He can't hope to escape a full-grown troll, all he can do is take the punishment for intruding; even an exile has the right to defend his home.

Nothing happens. "Sir?"

The Expatriate's huge hands wrap gently around his torso and pull him upright, push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and smooth his hair. Equius can't see the man's eyes behind his glasses, but he feels the stare boring into the sigil on his chest. For the first time in his life, Equius feels tiny.

The Expatriate steps back into the hive and moves aside out of the doorway. His voice rumbles like an earthquake. "Won't you come in?" Surprised and afraid to disobey, Equius follows.

The light is from a forge, mismatched but serviceable tools hanging beside it. The Expatriate produces a kettle, fills it, and hangs it over the coals. Equius stands in the corner, shivering nervously, until Darkleer picks him up and sits him on the anvil, where he hugs his knees. Unexpectedly, the big trolls speaks again; "What's your name, boy?"

"Eq-Equius Zahhak," he stammers. "And I know you. Expatriate Darkleer." He points to the sigil on Darkleer's shoulder. "You're... I am so sorry, sir, I should not speak without permission."

"You're my descendant, I know," says Darkleer, pouring a huge mug of steaming tea and handing it over. "It's good to meet you, Equius. Speak away, it's been too long since anyone did." He smiles, just a tiny bit. "Milk?"

"Please, if it's not too much trouble. I mean, I wouldn't presume to ask favours from an adult, but since you offered... ah, thank you." Equius' hands are shaking so much the tea sloshes in the mug; the ceramic starts to crack in his grip, and he tries to hold it less tightly. Milk splashes into the cup, enough to make it overflow, and before he's stammered out an apology Darkleer is offering him a rag to wipe his hands. Equius chews his lip bloody, and blurts out "Why are you being so nice to me?... Sir."

"Why not? I've been alone a long time, and along comes a troll of my own blood. Fate, perhaps. I'd rather not scare you away."

"I-I..." Equius shakes and sweats until he drops the mug, which bounces and splatters tea all over the floor. The smell reminds him of Nepeta, and tears finally leak from his eyes as he spills his thoughts. "I disgraced myself, I abandoned my moirail! I didn't know what to do! I couldn't disobey a highblood but she was my moirail and you did for your friend and... and anyone else would think I did the right thing except my friends and you and I don't know what to think anymore... why don't you platonically hate me? I'm incapable of either keeping to my rightful place or protecting my quadrants! I can't do anything right, not even decide what is right..." His voice cuts off in shameful sobs. Never before has he poured out his heart like this, even with Nepeta he struggles, and now he just emptied all his feelings out in front of a strange adult just because he had so many feelings he could no longer hold them all. His face burns blue and he wants to die again.

A hand bigger than his head rests on his shoulder. He reaches up to push it off, and finds he can't. He pushes harder, and realises he isn't even bruising the hand, nor is his ancestor's immense strength hurting him. Curiously, he grips Darkleer's finger. Maybe it's a factor of the dreambubbles, or merely that their strength is matched. Either way, he finds it fascinating, and is surprised to find his tears flowing harder.

"I won't pretend you couldn't have made better decisions than you did," says Darkleer, as softly as he can. "But you're six sweeps old, boy. Trolls far older and higher-blooded than you still make mistakes. Trust me."

Equius wipes his eyes with the tea-stained rag. "B-but..."

"If it helps at all, I think you were- are rather a good descendant." Darkleer gestures at the forge. "You had my skills and honed them well. You worked with your friends and won the game, and the way it ended wasn't anywhere near your fault. And despite the unpleasantness at the end I know you cared about your moirail. You did your best, and it wasn't perfect, but your best wasn't as bad as you think it was." He smooths Equius' hair again; Equius sweats more, worrying about Nepeta, but it feels less like a pale gesture and more like a lusus grooming their charge. "Now, I'm going to get some more tea, and you're going to drink it - you're still freezing - and we'll talk until you've calmed down. Then, once you're ready, you're going to go and find your moirail. Perhaps you can bring her back here, it's not so hard as you may think to find your way around. I'd love to meet her. She reminds me greatly of an old friend."

"... Thank you, sir." Equius hops down off the anvil and picks up the mug. "Actually, if it's not too impertinent to ask, I don't suppose you could warm up some milk?"


	20. Terezi/Karkat, bloodplay, T

"See, isn't this better?" Terezi rubs Karkat's back gently with one well-washed hand and strokes the knife over his vertebrae. "If I stick to your back, I have a decent canvas and you don't have to see it."

"Just don't sever my spine, we don't need another Tavros." Karkat huffs and shifts nervously, waiting for the blade's bite.

Terezi pats his horns. "I promise you'll be fine." The knife edge blackens in a candle flame, and she holds it up to cool. No sense in cauterising as she goes. "As long as you don't move."

She draws her sharp clawtips down his back, lightly, letting him get used to the sensation before the knife flicks out and opens a thin line across one shoulderblade. He gasps, but doesn't move. He's had worse, and at the next cut he doesn't react at all, even when she draws a careful curve.

"Is that your sigil?"

"Ten points to Vantas!" she chuckles. "You want to keep this one? I'm trying to do this so it doesn't scar, but I can redo it if you want."

"No thanks, I don't need permanent red lines all over myself." Karkat thinks. "Maybe get it tattooed. In teal."

Terezi kisses his neck. "You have the coolest ideas." More careful movements of the knife; ovals topped with spikes and nubs, small triangles and semicircles...

"Guess what it is?" Karkat shakes his head a miniscule amount, and Terezi laughs again. "It's us!" She licks the blood dripping from the carved Karkat's face. "Now I can still smell your face while I do this!"

"Cute, Terezi, really cute."

Terezi's hand passes over his muscles again and she frowns. "You're still so tense. Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's okay. I want you to have your fun."

"It's not much fun for me if it's making you miserable." Terezi chews her lip. "Would you mind if I tried something else? Close your eyes." 

Karkat does, and Terezi's sticky fingers slide over his lip. He splutters and spits, and is about to yell when she rubs his horns soothingly again. "C'mon, I do this all the time, it's not going to hurt..."

He licks his lips, and hums curiously. "It's... not terrible," he says, surprised; it tastes of very little, warm and salty. He's not panicking, as he expected to. Nobody can see his blood here, there's no reason to panic. Terezi's fingers brush his lip again, and this time he licks. 

"Okay, yeah, this isn't a total nightmare. I still don't see why you want to drink it by the gallon, but it's bearable."

"Actually, that one is mine. I thought you might want to compare."

Karkat opens his eyes to see Terezi's claws wet with teal, her red-stained other hand resting on his shoulder. He takes both hands to his mouth and licks gently, listening to Terezi purr, tasting no difference at all.


	21. Mute!Karkat/Blind!Terezi, G

Victory comes at a price, and mortals were never meant to call on a cherub god.

Karkat sleeps fitfully; no horrorterrors remain, but after what the trolls have seen they still rarely sleep easy. A gentle hand moves over the couch arm, finds his horns, wakes him, and he takes and kisses the hand.

"Budge over, Karkles." Terezi sits and they kiss, her tongue exploring the burnt remains of the mouth that called Calliope's name. He mouths words to her, and she doesn't respond; he forgot her eyes are gone again, and scent is not precise enough to read the movements of his lips.

He takes her hand and writes in her palm with a claw. HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

"Good. You?"

BORING. I THINK IT'S TIME I GOT BACK TO WORK, MY MOUTH DOESN'T HURT ANYMORE.

Terezi beams, and Karkat traces I LOVE YOU SO MUCH into her palm.


	22. Ara<>Tav with a snake, G

Something is moving in the pile. Aradia pauses mid-sentence and wonders if she should ask. It shifts again, and her leg brushes against something scaly and cold under the plushes. She jumps out of the pile and decaptchalogues her whip, ready to protect her moirail.

"Oh, um, sorry!" Tavros says. It takes a moment for her to realise he's not speaking to her. He kneels on the floor and throws plushes left and right until a large pile of something black and scaly is revealed. A tongue flickers out, and Tavros giggles as it brushes his face. "Hehe, I guess we warmed her up. Sorry, Aradia, I forgot she was there."

"'She'?" Aradia asks, still holding her whip. She is not nervous. Certainly not. She is an intrepid adventurer and is not afraid of anything. Especially not huge black slitherbeasts with nasty-looking fangs which suddenly appear in her moirail's nice safe pile.

"She chipped a fang, I was trying to, uhh, nurse her till her mouth stopped hurting." Tavros cuddles the snake and scratches it behind where its ears would be. Tinkerbull is hovering near the ceiling, fluttering irritably at the intruding animal. "She's only a baby, poor thing. Did you know this kind can grow big enough to swallow a hoofbeast?" He holds out the snake's head to Aradia and helpfully adds "I call her Precious."

Aradia sighs. The things she does for Tavros. But if she can't trust her moirail, who can she trust? He's perfectly able to keep beasts bigger and smarter than a sleepy baby snake under control.

She cautiously extends one finger and lightly strokes the snake's head. It's not as cold as she expected, and the skin is softer; it's rather like touching leather. The snake pushes up against her hand, like a kitten.

"Aww, she likes you!"

Aradia relaxes a little and rests her whole hand on the snake. "Yes, she does."


	23. Mindfang/Darkleer, E

She arrives with no money; no matter. A true gamblignant can lose everything and rebuild themselves far greater a dozen times a sweep. She calculates the price of repairs and the balance of debts between them; enough to put the payment off indefinitely, not enough to avoid it completely. While she can often slither out of debts, she does plan to repay this one. Darkleer's life has been so filled with misfortune she finds it unsporting to add to it. He glances over the stub of her arm and nods; what she needs is obvious.

He tries to look indifferent as she strips and climbs into his lap. The usual collateral. He platonically disapproves of her, nothing more, but she has been his only troll contact for so long, his body is touch-starved and she has no need of her power to lure him.

It's businesslike, cold. She muses on Redglare and on her recent victory, and almost ignores him. His movements lift her up and drop her down rhythmically, and she lets him; trying to resist his strength could shatter her bones, and she doesn't need more damage. He avoids touching her as much as possible, leaving it up to her to touch them both, which she does with no passion but sufficient success. Partway through, he looks her in the remaining eye, and then looks away too soon to see the platonic pity flash briefly across her face.

When he finishes, his claws leave grooves in the chair arms and he calls her by someone else's name. Well, she wasn't expecting him to think of her. Perhaps she should find out who this "Leijon" is, or was. Information is even better than gold. She doesn't bother to make herself come, that's not what she wanted from him; she pulls away, puts her skirt back on, and wraps her arm around her bare chest to pointedly tap her stump.

Much later, the flesh throbs as he tightens the last bolt. She steps aside and tests the new arm; it moves smoothly, realistically. She nods. The deal is done.


	24. Aranea/Gamzee pale-rape, T

Your hands are shaking as she writes the note for you, using your fingers to hold the pen. The words form in your old quirk. You hope Karkat will notice something is wrong from this, but he'll probably just assume it's a sign you're happy now. Karkat's first thought in any situation is the one which makes it his fault, and now you can't talk him out of that. Your hands ache to turn on her, to rip and rend and tear, and they cannot.

Your hands fold the note and tuck it into your sleeve, and she beams like a pet owner observing a new trick. You feel yourself sit down, and she settles on your lap; it would be more appropriate for you to sit on hers, but you have grown to your caste's usual height and you could crush her if you did. Not that it would last if you did so. Crazy bitch is already dead.

"No, don't cry," she coos, and strokes your face, though you weren't crying. You can't. "I know it's hard, but it must be done. Sometimes these things don't work out." It had been working fine until she came. "It's nobody's fault he doesn't have the right skills. Some trolls need a little extra help." Your hands are folded in your lap, begging to claw at her, to seize a weapon, and her hands unbutton your hood and start to gently pick out the knots in your hair, one by one. "Don't worry, I know exactly what you need. Just listen to me and everything will be fine. Kiss?"

Your lips are forced to brush her forehead, as you squeeze your eyes shut and think of blue-soaked sickles.


	25. Humanstuck TerVris, first-time, pain, E

"What, never? Like... _nothing?"_

"Not other than fingers, no." Terezi shrugs. "Not really my thing. I don't even like using tampons, it feels kind of weird." Vriska snickers, and Terezi scowls. "Yeah, well. I was seeing this guy Gamzee for a while and he used to just jam his fingers in, and he never cut his fucking nails. Put me off. We broke up before it went further, it's been strictly girls since and not many of them. Never went very far with them either, so it's never come up."

"Gamzee... Isn't he the one who's dating my ex now?" Terezi nods, and Vriska continues, "Yeah, well, you may be pleased to know I saw them together and Gamzee was the one limping, so maybe he's learned his lesson. No surprises there." She puts her hands on Terezi's forearm and moves them apart to demonstrate the measurement. Terezi's eyes widen behind her glasses, and both of them cackle together. "So, you want to try it?"

Terezi's brows knit. "Right now?"

"No time like the present!" Vriska chirps and hops off the bed, already in only her shirt, boyshorts, and socks. She kneels to start digging under the bed for the toybox. Terezi playfully pats her rump with surprisingly good aim. Vriska yelps and swipes back at her pyjama-clad ankle, and pulls out a suitable-looking item, which she holds up for inspection. "Okay, here's my smallest one."

Terezi feels the object, winces, and says "Really?" Vriska sighs and empties the box onto the bed, and Terezi handles every item until satisfied that Vriska wasn't lying. "Wait, this one's smaller-"

"Yeah, that's a butt plug."

Terezi excuses herself to wash her hands, listening to Vriska grumpily tidying up in the bedroom as she does. She returns and feels around the bed, finding only Vriska on it, spending some time snickeringly "exploring" her as well. Vriska's holding the toy in one hand and a lube bottle in the other; cherry-scented, as always. Terezi buys it in bulk and makes sure to always leave a bottle at Vriska's place. She climbs on the bed, straddles her girlfriend's legs, and mouths at her breasts through her shirt until Vriska pushes her up. "Hey, much as I appreciate the attention, this is supposed to be about you."

"Ow!" Terezi bangs her head on the wall as she tries to shift into position. "Okay, fine. Clothes off, I assume..." With a little assistance, her pink and red PJs drop to the floor, and she carefully puts her glasses on the table. Some repositioning leaves her on the bed and Vriska kneeling between her legs, hand on Terezi's freckled hip. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Not quite." Vriska's hand presses gently against her, and starts to rub until she feels dampness on her fingers, Terezi moaning softly and pushing up against her. One finger slips in with ease. "Right, I think we can go ahead. Happy?"

"Mrrr... yeah." Terezi frowns as Vriska's hand withdraws, and relaxes when she feels hard plastic against her clit. It's not a simple smooth one, the plastic forms ripples and bumps and twists which press weirdly on her nerves. She props one leg up on Vriska's shoulder and squeezes her unoccupied hand gently in encouragement, and the toy starts to push in.

It feels much bigger than it did in her hand, and she tries not to tense up. The stretch is uncomfortable, but she's sure it won't last. She shivers as the pressure hits a sensitive spot, then winces; Vriska's going too fast, it's starting to hurt. She considers complaining, but the ache fades a little and she figures she's fussing over nothing. People shove babies out through there, she can handle a bit of plastic. She hears Vriska's breathy chuckle, and usually her blindness doesn't bother her but she wishes she could see her partner's face.

"You're doing great, just try to stay relaxed..." The toy slides about halfway out, then back in again, still too fast, and Terezi grunts and meets the movement with a roll of her hips. Yeah, it's a little better this time... Again, now her muscles are loosening up and it's okay, still not wonderful but it's getting better.

The toy really does feel too big. She knows Vriska has managed the much bigger ones in her collection with no problem, but Vriska is much taller and broader than Terezi and probably similarly bigger elsewhere, and Vriska has much more experience and a thing for pain. Terezi enjoys the biting and scratching and hair-pulling too, but this is different, it's just uncomfortable and slightly unnerving. She tries to shift her hips to get the pressure back at the good angle, but she gets the movement wrong and it nearly pulls the toy out of Vriska's hand and she's sure she's bruised herself.

"Stop moving!" Vriska tells her, and she tries. Vriska gets the angle better this time, but she's moving too fast and too rough and the lube's drying up. Terezi again thinks of telling her to stop before Vriska's tongue makes her lose her train of thought. Her own wetness increases, the friction stops, and the discomfort subsides.

Vriska stops licking for a moment and makes a questioning noise. Terezi replies with "'M okay, keep going." Just as Terezi thinks it's getting good, the pain spikes again, and she stifles a yell and tries to pull away.

The movement stops, and Terezi hears Vriska draw in a sharp breath between her teeth before uttering the very last words she wanted to hear. "Fuck. That's not lube." The toy disappears from her, leaving her feeling sore and forced-open, and Vriska pulls her upright. Terezi yelps as she tries to stand up and the pain shoots through her again. The skin is broken, and the lube is stinging it like hellfire. "I'm sorry, hon, I'm so sorry, I think I was too rough."

"It's okay," Terezi grates out, tears starting to leak from her eyes. She can smell the ominous coppery hint, and her heart races; she tells herself to calm down. It's probably not that bad, she's just exaggerating it in her mind because she can't see the damage. "Ow! How bad is it?"

"I don't think it's too bad, don't panic. Let's clean you up..."

Vriska leads her to the bathroom and sits her on the edge of the tub, and kneels between her legs with a warm wet washcloth. "Okay, looks like it was just a little bit. Shit, I'm sorry about that. I thought the hymen breaking thing was a myth. Apparently you're one of the unlucky ones. Sorry, I should have gone easier."

"Y-yeah." Terezi's face is flushed, her eyes still watering.

Vriska strokes her thigh comfortingly, and says "Honey, you've gotta tell me if it's not going well, okay? I can't read your mind and from that angle it was hard to see your face."

"Sorry. Everything else we've done was fine, I figured that would be okay if I waited the pain out."

There's a splash as Vriska drops the washcloth into the sink to soak out the blood and lube. "You've gotta be more careful."

"Says the woman who tried to 'walk off' a broken arm in high school?"

"I could manage a few weeks with one arm. I don't think either of us wants permanent damage down there. Feeling any better?"

Terezi shifts her legs, and winces a little. "A bit. I might walk funny tomorrow morning, but I'm okay." She smiles as Vriska pulls her into a hug. "Speaking of tomorrow, how about we go shopping and get something smaller?"

"You'd want to try again?" Vriska asks, surprised.

"Yeah, but next time I'd prefer you just watch and learn from me."


	26. Humanstuck Gam & Kan, piercings, G

"Sister, you's gonna up and look a- _maz_ -in'!"

"I'm sure it will look wonderful, it's how it will feel that I'm worried about." Kanaya looks at the bottle in Gamzee's left hand; vodka serving as both disinfectant and anaesthetic, and she's sure she hasn't had enough. She didn't quite dare drink much. Gamzee's the youngest son of the wealthiest family in the county and yet when he's not drinking his plasticky-tasting soda he drinks this rotgut, which dissolves spoons and has a tattered label with the brand name misspelled across the front. Rebellion, perhaps, in the same way as his body art. Why does she let her friends talk her into things like this? Still, his own collection of adornments do look rather good, and he did Vriska's spiderbite and Tavros' septum ring without killing them. Those, however, were in the shop where he works, in marginally more hygienic conditions than Kanaya's living room (she does pride herself on cleanliness but it's hardly surgically sterile), and he was as sober as he ever gets at the time.

"Aw, need more ice? More vodka?"

Kanaya takes one more swig of the mysterious substance which she hopes is vodka, swills it round her front teeth, and dabs more on the outside of her lip, wincing at the burn before applying another ice cube. Maybe the alcohol wasn't the best idea, she knows it thins the blood, but she never minded blood.

"Okay, once it heals up you'll prob'ly be wanting to use plastic backs," Gamzee instructs her, pinching her lower lip and pulling it out. She tries not to smile at how silly she must look. "Don't move. What was I up and sayin'? Plastic backs, yeah, and try not to chew the metal motherfuckers, break a tooth that way. Don't nod!"

Kanaya wasn't nodding, but she takes the warning to heart and stays catatonically still as Gamzee dips a sewing needle in a shot glass and applies it. Fuck, it still stings, but nothing she can't handle. Actually, feeling the needle move through her lip is oddly pleasant. Warming. She closes her eyes and feels a slight tingle run through her. Out, followed by the short blunt bar, and in again, on the other side of her lip. She tastes blood in with the vodka, and hisses between her teeth as it stings wonderfully. God, she wants to lick her lips.

Gamzee's long fingers screw the ends onto the bars and release her lip. She moves her mouth a little, getting used to the feeling. Gamzee grins.

"Hey, wanna see if I can get you some fang-shaped ones?"

Kanaya smiles at that. Her vampire fixation is well-known among their group. "I think that would look a little odd, unless the bars were in my top lip and the fangs on the inside. Interesting thought, though." She tongues at the bars. The sting turns into a throb, and she can still taste blood.

"Heh. And since you've been so motherfucking good with the needle..." Gamzee plants a kiss on her forehead and hands her an item, which - she does laugh at this - proves to be a lollipop.


	27. Makaras, reversed reproductive systems, crack, T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one's silly; the request was for a dancestor pair discovering that the Scratch did something which meant one side had genitals reversed from the cisgender norm of the other; i.e. girls have penises, boys have vaginas. I didn't manage to get any porn in but I couldn't resist this scenario.

"Shut the fuck up and give me the codpiece."

Kurloz dropped to one knee, averting his eyes reverently, and handed the object over. Gamzee stepped into the garment and yanked it up his skinny legs, shifting the waistband until it fitted properly in place. He ignored his dancestor's actions, but what he said - or rather telepathically broadcasted - next was a shock.

I OWE YOU MY MOST SINCERE AND HUMBLE APOLOGIES, MY PROPHET. ALL THIS TIME, I MISTOOK YOU FOR A BOY.

The lair was silent for a long time.

"WHAT."

Kurloz raised his arms over his head to fend off a potential blow. I'M SORRY, BUT YOUR PREVIOUS CLOTHING CONCEALED A LOT MORE, AND EVEN NOW YOU ARE, WELL... He glanced at Gamzee's flat chest. ... YOUNG AND NOT YET AS WELL-DEFINED AS SOME. IT WAS AN EASY MISTAKE TO MAKE.

"Uh, funny motherfucking thing, that, 'cause, you see, I AM A BOY, YOU FUCKING MORON." Gamzee pointed angrily at his new accessory. "You trying to be motherfucking funny? WAS THAT SOME KIND OF MOTHERFUCKING COMMENT ABOUT ME MOTHERFUCKING OVERCOMPENSATING OR SOMETHING?"

Kurloz's brow furrowed. WAIT, WHAT?

"WHAT IS GIVING YOU TROUBLE, MOTHERFUCKER?"

WELL, WHAT DO YOU MOTHERFUCKING EXPECT? YOU'RE CLEARLY DRAWING ATTENTION TO YOUR OVIPOSITOR, YET YOU SAY YOU'RE A BOY? NOT THAT I'D PRESUME TO SUGGEST OTHERWISE, MY PROPHET, I MERELY DON'T UNDERSTAND.

"My what now?... OKAY. I have no motherfucking idea what's going on." Gamzee chewed his lip thoughtfully, and then said "DROP YOUR MOTHERFUCKING PANTS."

Kurloz didn't hesitate to unbutton his shorts, struggling a little with the zip on his bodysuit, until his clothes lay in a heap around his ankles. Gamzee huffily undid his own clothes, and they looked at each other. Gamzee blinked, and peered closer.

"HUH."

WHAT, MY NOOK ISN'T NORMAL? Kurloz squinted at Gamzee. HUH. I GUESS IT'S NOT? WEIRD.

"You can motherfucking talk about weird." Gamzee looked away, leaning back slightly to look Kurloz in the eye. "SO, WHAT, YOUR CREW ALL GOT 'EM BACKWARDS?"

APPARENTLY SO. Kurloz started to pull his clothes back on. COME ON, I'LL SHOW YOU...

~

Cronus suppressed a shriek as Kurloz appeared suddenly behind him. "Gah! Okay, you hawve got to find some vway a' makin' noise vwhen you're sneakin' up on me, Makara. Sheesh." He scowled in response to Kurloz' innocent smile. "Vwhaddya vwant?" A smaller purple-clad figure lurking in the shadows caught Cronus' eye. "Oh, is that kid vwith y-"

IGNORE HIM FOR NOW, HE'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Cronus promptly forgot entirely about the stranger, his mind re-filling with thoughts of his favourite topic; himself. "So, can I help you vwith anyfin?"

Kurloz nodded, grabbed Cronus' belt, and yanked. The seatroll's jeans dropped in a puddle around his feet, his jaw also dropping, and Kurloz stepped back as if to examine his handiwork. Having been instructed to ignore the figure in the shadows, Cronus didn't notice Kurloz looking in said figure's direction; he was too busy being shocked, anyway. Without so much as a nod, Kurloz turned and walked away.

"... the fuck?!" Cronus spluttered, pulling his pants back up. "Oh, hey! Hey! Don't you fuckin' vwalk avway now, I'm talkin' to you-"

Kurloz spun on his heel and gave an ominous stitch-stretching grin. Cronus backed away for three steps, then turned and ran.

Gamzee doubled over laughing and Kurloz joined him with a soft hissing sound making its way between his lips. "Mirthful motherfucking Messiahs. ALMOST GOT DISTRACTED BY WATCHING HIS FUCKING FACE."

WELL, THERE YOU GO. TOLD YOU IT WAS NORMAL.

Gamzee took a few breaths, and creased up laughing again.

WHAT?

"Just... just... I saw a shot of the Alternian-flavour you one time, and he..." Between cackles, Gamzee pointed at his codpiece. Kurloz looked at it, and blinked at him. Gamzee held up his hands roughly a forearm's length apart.

Kankri Vantas bustled up the path, full of righteous indignation. Cronus had informed him of recent occurrences, and he had every intention of making Kurloz see the error of his ways with a stern lecture on the importance of bodily autonomy. He paused as the purpleblood came into view, and blinked. Kurloz was leaning against the wall of Cronus' dreambubble hive, laughing himself into fits. He caught sight of a brief flash of purple out of the corner of his eye; it had disappeared by the time he turned.

"Well, I must say I'm disappointed," he said, shaking his head. "Kurloz, I've told you before, it's not funny to trigger others, you might have scarred Cronus for ... un-life."

Kurloz shook his head, making gestures Kankri couldn't follow.

"What?"

Still shaking with laughter, Kurloz waved a hand in the direction of his shorts, then fell back against the wall again, tears streaking his makeup as he saw the look on Kankri's face.

"Okay." Kankri backed away very slowly as Kurloz continued snickering. "Maybe I'll come back later."


	28. Dad & John, embarrassing puberty talk, T

"... and you will soon notice hair growing, like so," Dad continued, shaking the chocolate flake pot. John groaned and squinted at the light-brown-iced cake through his fingers as the "hair" covered the section made with two Christmas pudding moulds, located at one end of the appropriately modified loaf. The dark pink blob on the other end seemed to stare at him accusingly. Dad ignored him and continued.

"As I was saying, sperm cells are made in the testicles. Observe." John yelped in sympathy pain as Dad made use of a cake knife, causing cream to ooze onto the platter. "And sometimes they come out, like this." He picked up a fat piping bag and inserted it into the end of the cake. John noticed too late there was a furrow down the centre; Dad squeezed the bag, and John jumped backwards at the splurt of white from the near end, as if the icing was anywhere near high enough pressure to hit him.

"Oh God, Dad!"

"It's important information, my dear boy!" Dad insisted. "When this happens I want you to know it's perfectly natural and healthy, absolutely nothing to worry about. All I ask is that you keep things tidy, you are a young man now and quite old enough to put your own sheets in the wash. Now, here we have the uterus again..." He picked up the appropriate confection. "Should a man and a woman decide to express intimacy..." The first cake was positioned in the carved slot in the second, and John made a horrified squeaking sound. "Sperm will be introduced into the vagina, unless a protective barrier is used." He slammed his hand down on the icing bag again, splattering the red cake with white. "And the majority of times, nothing will result anyway, as for intercourse to be productive a mature egg cell must be present; as you see, here there are only immature ones."

"The sprinkles?" John asked weakly.

"The sprinkles indeed. And in this case, the lining of the uterus will be recognised by the body as unnecessary and shed, on a monthly basis, in the form of blood and mucus," Dad said, wielding the cake knife again; strawberry jam leaked onto the board.

"Oh God I'm gonna be sick... is that a chocolate coin?"

"For the purposes of this discussion, it's a fertile egg cell, John. Now every month an egg is released from the ovary and travels down the Fallopian tube, which is this here..." Dad's hand curved over the cake and plunked the coin down in the white splatter. "And should it meet a sperm cell..."

Dad paused dramatically, spun around and opened the oven, producing a large domed cake. When he put it down, John noticed the small stylised arms, legs, and head drawn on the plate with icing, and the strategically placed slice. Dad picked up the tongs.

"Well, I'm sure you already know this much."

"Yes, yes, I do! No need for more, oh God, Dad, please stop, ewww!"

Dad proudly held up a small plastic baby between the tongs. "And that's the story of how you were born. Excellent work, John, you listened very well! I am proud of you." He picked up the cake knife again. "Would you like a reward?"

John fled the kitchen for the bathroom, hand clasped over his mouth, vowing never to have sex or eat cake as long as he lived and wondering if the former if not the latter had been his father's intention.


	29. Dave<>Tavros, G

"Ohh, I really need to sit down..." Tavros opens the door and drops his keys in surprise. "Uh, Dave?"

"Hey, my palest of bros," Dave says, and lifts one arm out of the enormous heap of cushions and plushes sprawling over the floor to switch on the music; a low bass beat, no distracting vocals. Dave's already in his sleepwear, boxers and a T-shirt, and Tavros' pyjamas and a thick pair of socks are folded on the couch. The coffee table bears a mug of steaming, frothy cocoa and a plate of sugar cookies. "Pull up a plushie?"

"Um, w-wow." Tavros shuts the door, and almost jumps into the pile, his horns narrowly missing Dave. "Whoops! Sorry."

"Aw, you're just pleased to see me. I can get behind that, everyone wants to spend time with the Strider," Dave says with the slight smirk which is the equivalent of laughter and joyful hugs from him, then ruffles the troll's hair and smooths down his own. "I know you've been having a tough time lately - well, we all have." His voice drops, sultry with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh yeah, baby, I'll pap your ass like it's never been papped before. Snuggle me like that, you animal."

"Daaave!" Tavros giggles, getting up to fetch his PJs. He doesn't feel embarrassed or awkward about laughing at all now. Dave's quadrant-blurring jokes used to upset him, but either Dave's helped him thicken his skin or he's just used to Dave being Dave now. He fumbles out of his clothes and pulls on the pyjamas; still warm. "Oh my god, you actually ironed these! Thank you."

"Socks too," Dave points out. "You spent enough time not feeling your feet, gotta keep 'em comfortable now." Tavros laughs and sits back down, resting his head against Dave's chest. Dave reaches carefully around his horns to rub the troll's aching neck, and Tavros starts to purr.

He takes a sugar cookie. The cookies are home-made, clearly by someone other than Dave, probably John or Jane or their fathers. Dave's attempts to bake were never a success. He mumbles in the affirmative in reply to Dave's "Good?", and reaches up to feed another cookie to his moirail.


	30. Terezi<>Nannasprite, G

They're exhausted, injured, patched up clumsily, but alive and safe, and heading for freedom.

Terezi jolts awake at the cold sprite hand on her forehead. "It's been an hour, dear. How are you feeling?"

"Would feel better if you hadn't woken me," she mumbles, running a finger over her eyelids under the blindfold.

"Sorry, dear, I can't let you stay asleep too long with a concussion."

"We have a Life player, I'll be fine." Terezi sits up, groaning, light pouring through her blindfold and into her nose as the ship tears across the void, pulling the few remaining dreambubbles in its wake.

"Actually, I have something which will help. The Life player in question is technically me and it seems we share some abilities, hoohoo!"

The sprite produces a tray and Terezi inhales warm sugary air. "Are those cookies?"

"Healing cookies, dear. Nothing makes you feel better like baked goods with a touch of sprite majykks."

"Hm." Terezi gnaws at the edge of a soft brown cookie, feeling a trickle of warmth flow back into her battered body. She feels better than she has in months, and contrary to popular comments on medicine the cookie tastes pretty damn good. She takes a larger bite and almost chokes with a gasp of joy as rainbows burst on her tongue.

Nannasprite beams; her M&M cookies are a wonderful success.


	31. Tavros<3<Stairs, G

One step; Tavros breathed out, relieved. Maybe this time he'd manage to walk downstairs normally. Two steps down, his metal legs perfectly steady. Three. He grinned, rested his thumbs against the bolts where pockets would have been, proudly raised his chin, and took another step.

He missed; the ridges on his sole caught the edge of the step, and he fell forwards, tumbling down the stairs face first until he landed at the bottom, catching his horn a painful crack.

He rolled over, bruised all over and groaning, glared at his inanimate tormentors, and kicked right through the bottom stair.


	32. Surprise pair, T

She was stunning; strong graceful limbs, hair gleaming pale as starlight, wide limpid eyes gazing sweetly at him, soft lips opening to expose perfect pearls of teeth. He felt awkward beside her, small and clumsy, and yet she plainly adored him even before she learned of his power. Together they could be stronger than he ever was alone.

They embraced beneath the moon, his breath pouring hot and rapid over her neck. In the throes of bliss, they did not notice the arrival of an onlooker until the scream;

"Jade, what the _hell_ is your dog doing to my pony?!"


	33. Darkleer/Dolorosa, blood, T

His hands are not small, but the wound is big enough to fit one. She laughs as he probes the hole curiously.

"Fool didn't know you can't kill a jadeblood that way... I'm sorry, but there's more."

"Anything. I owe you more than I could ever repay."

She pulls his head down and whispers in his ear. "I'm starving."

He doesn't move as her fangs scratch the skin below his eye. Her tongue flicks out. Just a taste. The sea salt caked on her lips burns, and blue runs down to his chin; she moves down and bites in deeper.


	34. Aurthour/Pounce, G

Pounce was quite content to carry or be carried, but while Nepeta could manage the latter for longer than most would give her credit for, Pounce was big and awkward to hold, and it took a toll on the little troll's arms and back. Traditionally, one's moirail would massage sore muscles, but Equius didn't dare risk it, and the vibration of Pounce's purring helped but it was really a job for a pair of hands. Fortunately, Aurthour was quite willing to help out; Nepeta lay across Equius' lap or Pounce's back as the butler worked the knots from her body, and she would thank him with a hug.

Equius was an angry little boy, Pounce had known before she even met him; his rages would shake the already-unstable ground of the mountain range, and rockslides were a constant risk. Nepeta changed that, beginning by drawing his ire to herself and letting him verbally vent, then as they got to know each other better by talking him down, and when they finally met face to face she sat beside him and purred until he relaxed. Pounce joined in, a deeper counterpoint, paws resting on the boy's carefully unmoving hand to allow the soothing sound to pass through his body. One day Aurthour put a hand on her head, and she let him scratch her ears, purring even louder.

Equius disapproved of hunting, and it would be rather tactless to bring Aurthour on an expedition to slaughter his relations; long walks together, however, were not an issue, and the four spent many happy hours exploring together. Nepeta would scurry along far ahead, Equius trudging proudly after her, and the lusii would hang back, communicating in their wordless way, enjoying the moons' light bathing them in pink and green. Their walks became slower and slower, dragging out their time together, their respective trolls begging them to keep up, until they decided it would be far less trouble to walk together one evening without their charges and take their own time.

Alternia was a dangerous place, and near the end of their first walk they came across the remains of another creature's kill; blood the same shade as Aurthour's coloured the bones. Pounce nudged him away from the gore, hissing, hackles up, searching the area in case the killer was nearby. Nothing. She relaxed and tried to lead him away, but he held up a hand to stop her, and collected the bones. Nepeta was overjoyed when he presented them to her; now she had the perfect colour to finish Equius' squares on her shipping wall. Equius used two towels and managed to leave only a small bruise on Aurthour when patting him in thanks; Pounce licked the painful spot better for him.

When breeding season arrived both had to roam; cats could not breed with centaurs. Both returned much sooner than expected, and greeted each other with joy. Nepeta hunted extra food for Pounce, Equius pulled down trees for Aurthour. Soon enough the day arrived, and mere weeks after that Equius was watching Pounce and Nepeta gambolling in the moonlight with a tiny gangly centaur, while Aurthour nursed four fat kittens.


	35. Troll!Roxy fixated on Jane's lusus, G

tipsyGnostalgic began trolling gutsyGumshoe

TG: gg my girly!  
TG: guess whos arriving tonight!

GG: a legislacerator never guesses, my dear! allow me to apply my keen deduction skills to this tricky puzzle.  
GG: let me see, i have been getting more and more frequent messages in violet text riddled with typographical errors over the past week, all suggesting their typist is coming to see me.  
GG: could it perhaps be... dirrck?

TG: oh u so funny

GG: >:B

TG: ur motucon looks like a grumpy face w even nubbier horns than u  
TG: *emoticon

GG: yes, it does a bit.  
GG: still, i'm certainly not grumpy about my wonderful friend coming to see me!

TG: hatefriend jhanee gotta kepe up the protcool  
TG: but u kno i luv u  
TG: itll be so greato meet u!

GG: you too, rokzie.

TG: and ur delixius lusus =>:) =:)

GG: oh my.  
GG: luckily enough you are just in time, he is about ready to bud.

TG: aw i dont wanna eat the litte wigglr ones  
TG: teyre too cute

GG: well, dad did absorb a nice large meal recently. i'm sure he won't mind if you and frigglish join me and dig into him a bit. he grows very fast.  
GG: is frigglish okay in fresh water, anyway? i presume you're coming up the river.

TG: yaay!  
TG: n dont u worry friggs n me r fine swimin up river  
TG: stings the gills a bit but catfish r togh

GG: excellent!  
GG: it'll be nice to meet frigglish, i've always wanted to see a catfish up close.

TG: and i alwyhs wanted to try freshj qmbujtlator cakeshruom  
TG: *anbutlatoru  
TG: *walking  
TG: cagaers cant buy it right from the source they dont gruw in teh sea  
TG: also wanna sit on him  
TG: he looks sooo comfy in ur pics

GG: hoo hoo! you do have quite the fungus fixation, miss llonde.  
GG: i told him and he's gurgling at me, i assume that means yes you can.  
GG: he is indeed very pleasantly squishy and there's plenty of room for us both.  
GG: just don't wear clothes you mind getting syrupy, he secretes when he's digesting.

TG: i dont mind at all  
TG: delcuius cakey syrup  
TG: i should b there in an hour or so  
TG: c u then jhanee darlin!

GG: the cooking hull's warming up already, rokzie dear!  
GG: reminds me, i must check on that stew before you arrive. i must get it right.  
GG: repulsive flarping cheat though he was i have more respect than to let him boil dry.

TG: im sure hed be v honored  
TG: if u cook half as well as jaiyke sez trolls shld be linin up to b in it

gutsyGumshoe ceased trolling tipsyGnostalgic

Jhanee Crokah put her husktop down and crawled over to check the clock, making squishing sounds as she moved atop the immense fungus. Yes, time to turn the heat down; she hopped down to the floor and patted her lusus gently in thanks. On a whim, she broke off a piece of the sticky substance and chewed.

"Do you think perhaps some vanilla sauce would bring out your flavour?"

Cakedad rumbled in agreement.


	36. Jade/Rose, spanking, M

"Oh gosh, I'm not sure I'm doing this right."

"You haven't started yet," Rose said, placing her hands on the mattress and arching her back. "Come on, just try."

"Okay, just let me practice for a moment..." Jade lifted Rose's nightgown hem and twisted it around her waist to keep it up, exposing her shapely legs and buttocks fully. She bit her lip, raised her hand, and let it land with a light "pap". "How about this?" She swung her hand back and down again, harder; a louder sound as skin met skin.

"Not bad, not bad," Rose murmured. "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

A louder sound this time; a pink handprint took shape briefly.

"Better! Keep going..." Again. "Ah! Yes, that's a good sting. Now move, don't just stay in the same spot or I'll get desensitised. Try a little lower." Jade gave her another slap where her legs and body met. "Yes! Excellent!" Again, and again. "Now keep going! Harder! No, harder than that!... Why are you giggling?"

Jade dropped her voice an octave and quoted "'I want you to hit me as hard as you can.'"

"That's it. You're not allowed to watch movies with John anymore."


	37. Eri<3Tav, scissoring, E

"Okay, howw about no fuckin' wway." Tavros' face fell, and Eridan immediately tried to backtrack. "No, no, not like that! It's not bad!"

"You, uhh, don't have to lie," Tavros mumbled, crossing his hands over his lap and curving his wings around himself. "It's gross, isn't it? There's something wrong?"

"No!" Eridan knelt up on the pailing platform and took Tavros' hand. His own hand brushed against the offending organ, and he winced slightly. "It's fine, okay? It's better than fine! It's just, y'knoww... _bigger than my fuckin' arm."_

"Oh, it is not!... Maybe as big as your _forearm,_ but, well, that's not your whole arm."

"Leawin' aside specifics, that thing ain't goin' in wwithout more practice than wwe can do in one day. Nothin' against you, Taw, but I'd like to keep my pelwic bones intact, if you please."

"Um, then we might have a problem." Tavros looked nervously at Eridan's own exposed bulge; Eridan felt decidedly insulted until Tavros said "See, I can't get _anything_ in mine."

Eridan frowned. "Wwhat, can you not find it?"

"Uhh, ha ha. No, really." Tavros bent his knees up, exposing his nook, and tried to push a finger in without success. "I just kind of tense up, and it really hurts, if I try to push it. I don't know why. It hasn't been a problem, till now."

"Still ain't!" Eridan said, patting Tavros' arm. "C'mon, I knoww wwhat to do." He shifted around, pushed one leg under Tavros', and hooked his other leg around Tavros' waist. "Seen this before?"

"Oh, uhh, yeah! I see. Sorry, I should have thought of that..."

"Hell no you shouldn't. Bein' wwith me wwas your bright idea, noww it's my turn."

Tavros laughed out loud, and pulled Eridan closer until their seedflaps met; still dry, but that would be remedied soon enough. "Eeesh! Sorry, you're, uhh, kind of cold. Let me fix that..." Tavros' palm was sweating and warm enough to make Eridan squirm as it enveloped his bulge; damn, Tav's hands were big too, and his breathing grew faster as the hand stroked up and down and a finger slid between them to warm his nook folds.

"Y'knoww, by rights I oughta get a chance to cool you off the same wway," Eridan said, smirking. "It feels just as wweird to me."

"Warmth doesn't make your bulge, uhh, retract, though."

"Hey, maybe that's how I can get it in, wwe just need an icepack and- ah! Fuck!" Tavros' finger pushed inside, and Eridan almost fell on him, clutching his partner's shoulders for support.

"Very funny." Tavros reached behind him and repositioned the purple silk pillows with his other hand, and leaned back against the wall, enjoying Eridan's grip on his shoulders. The seadweller's cold hands slid round and massaged his neck; Tavros rumbled happily as the perpetually-strained muscles were soothed. His neck was a highly sensitive spot, Eridan knew, and the workings of his fingers were rewarded with the beginnings of moisture elsewhere. They remained quiet and concentrated on synchronising their hips' rhythm, the sounds of a rainstorm outside pattering on the portholes and mingling with their purrs.

"Ah, oh, oh geez, I'm ruining your sheets, doesn't silk not wash very well?..."

"Fuck the sheets! Or don't, rather, ya got a perfectly good matesprit." Eridan emphasised his point with a hard grind, and more fluid spattered the couch; brown with a growing tinge of violet. Eridan's bulge was almost entirely hidden by Tavros', held frustratingly still in the thick pulsing coils. He would have felt inadequate if he'd been able to think at that point. Thin fluid was dripping at a steady rate from both of them, slicking up the motions and running down to join the increasing flow from their nooks. Eridan grinned as he noticed Tavros' wingtips fluttering erratically; obviously he was doing it right.

Tavros' eyelids fluttered along with them and he murmured "Am I doing okay?"

"Better than okay! Actually it'd be _much_ better than okay if you could just... gimme a moment..." Eridan guided Tavros' hips to tilt more upwards, and eased his arms into position against the wall so he could brace himself better. "And noww it's perfect." Eridan's own body weight, small though it was, gave him the advantage now, and he pressed down harder, leaning forward to kiss the brown blush spreading across Tavros' face.

Their thighs were sticky with sweat and genetic fluids, but the increasing flow from their nooks provided a fresh slickness and allowed smooth movement. Eridan braced himself with his hands on Tavros' horns, the pressure between their seedflaps increased, their bulges wrapped tighter and drew wet lines across their thighs and stomachs until Eridan leaned closer and pressed them together between their bodies. Tavros noticed a trickle of violet running down behind Eridan's knee and wiped it off.

"Fuck, Taw..." Eridan shivered. "Sensitiwe there."

"Was that a 'stop'?"

"No! Gettin' close... sorry."

"It's okay." Tavros slid one hand between them, almost frictionless now with the mingled violet and brown, and used his other hand to rub gently at Eridan's calf. "T-touch my wings, please. I'll catch you up."

Eridan did as he was told, fingerpads digging into the muscles at the base, then smoothing over the skin, as his other hand joined Tavros', trailing alternating warm and cool; his bulge curved around Tavros' and just barely reached a little way into his own nook.

"Bucket?" Tavros asked, worried.

"Forget the bucket!"

Eridan's hoarse words pushed Tavros over the edge; his bulge thrashed and tightened, and with a groan he soaked Eridan and the couch.

"Fuck, no fair, you owertook me- oh!" Tavros gripped Eridan's hips and ground up harder, and Eridan kissed him roughly until he finally finished as well with a muffled wail, violet spilling freely from his nook and drenching the couch further.

They lay still, breathing hard, letting the sweat cool on their skin, until Eridan spoke. "Taw, I hate to make you get up but if I don't change the sheets wwe'll stick to 'em."

"Oh! Right. Let me help." They slid off the bed and tugged off the silk sheets and the liquid-proof pad protecting the mattress; Tavros stroked the corner of the soft fabric between his fingers until Eridan yanked it off him and used it to wipe himself down. He caught Tavros' expression.

"It'll wwash. Trust me, ewen I ain't that wwasteful."

"Oh, good. I just, uhh, feel bad about not getting as much use as possible from, ah, things made from animals, and grubs. You know. I don't want them to, um, die in vain."

"Yeah, yeah, you and your critters," Eridan said with a chuckle, and enveloped Tavros in a sheet-wrapped hug.

"Eridan, you're getting me sticky! Well, stickier."

They carried the soiled bedding between them to the laundry basket, untangled long enough to remake the couch, and climbed back in. Eridan was about to drift off into a contented nap when Tavros broke the silence. "Sorry I couldn't do it the other way, I think we can practice, and I'll manage to use my nook some time, really soon, or maybe yours, but I don't want to hurt you..."

Eridan raised an eyebrow and said "Wwell, if that's wwhat you wwant."

"You don't want to?"

"Wwell, not like the idea turns me off, but I'm quite happy this wway. No laww says _howw_ wwe gotta get the stuff in the bucket, after all."

"Heh. Okay, I guess I would still, eventually, like to try it, but I like this too. And, I feel better, now there's no pressure, to do anything else... Maybe that'll make me less nervous, and, uhh, more likely to succeed. Maybe. Eventually. There's no hurry."

"There ya go, then."

Tavros smiled and said "So we're fine?"

Eridan yawned and curled up in the crook of Tavros' arm. "Yep. Wwe're fine."


	38. Jade<3Kanaya<3Rose species-swap, T

Her hands are icy, and the claws tipping the fingers almost sharp enough to cut. Kana Mayers thinks of pulling away, but instead brushes her own fingers against the troll girl's fins, watching them flutter.

"Dear Rowzey," rumbles the greenblood, wrapping her arms around Kana's shoulders from behind, breathing the smell of meat over her. "Don't hog the alien."

"You have your own to bother, my dear," Rowzey says, now tugging curiously at Kana's soft hair. Kana's heard about Djayde from Karl and Nita; a wild weird girl, strong enough to hold an entire small island against all comers with help from only Rowzey and their animal guardians. She feels a little nervous, wishes Vicy was present, but Rowzey squeezes her hand, a universally soothing gesture even from a creature with fangs Kana has only seen in vampire fiction. Rowzey's claws do cut now, accidentally, and she looks down at Kana's gasp and freezes at the blood.

"My goodness. Possibly redder than Daived's. Do excuse me..." She licks her fingers. "And yet it tastes like a troll's. I'm sorry I hurt you there, Kana."

Kana raises her hand to Djayde's mouth, and lets her lick it. "Care for any more?"


	39. Trickster Handmaid, G

She wanders, as she did in life, but on nobody's leash. She shares memories with so many, and so the dreambubbles open up to her.

She sees her selves everywhere, among the others, dozens of herselves identical and many more a little different. Poor misled Damara, not knowing the price she made her other self pay for revenge. Mara Masuko, soft-skinned and hornless and not even able to use the power the Handmaid was not allowed to control herself. Damoru Megido and his other self the Handyman, who destroyed instead of building, the long nails he used as wands tucked in his belt as her chopsticks are in her hair, dormant but not gone just in case.

A smell has been following her through the bubbles. A smell of fire, that she does not notice for some time, used as she is to death and destruction. It insinuates itself into her mind, nagging, just barely in reach. Suddenly, recognition hits her.

Burning sugar.

She spins and her chopsticks hit nothing; something sharp presses against her scalp from above, glitter falls, and she hears a piercing giggle. She moves faster, pulls at the sharp stick at her skull - a sharpened lollipop stick, of all things - and the figure holding it falls into her field of vision.

"Hello, me!" she says through the grin that dimples her maroon-swirled cheeks. "It's me again!"

"Go away," the Handmaid says stiffly, eyes flashing.

"Aw, other me doesn't love me!" she giggles, lime and jade petticoats beneath a sickly pink dress flashing as she backflips and takes hold of her original self from behind. "Other me doesn't love other me either! So sad!"

"I said go away!" the Handmaid snarls, her chopsticks resting on her candy-smelling clone's jugular, not that it will help. "I don't need you anymore, Trickster."

Trickster continues to giggle, and speaks again, in a lower voice than her usual piercing squeal. "But I love you! I love you when you can't love yourself. And I love the work. That's why you wanted me."

"I don't want you anymore! I'm free now! I'm free... I don't need you around!" Handmaid succeeds in breaking free from the grip, and whirls into a fighting stance. She smells burnt sugar on her hair from where the Trickster breathed.

"I am always free," Trickster says, her grin stretching wider. She stabs the dual lollipops back into her hair, and clasps her hands. "That is what a Trickster is. I am bound by nothing, not even you."

_"He_ bound you. He could always force me back."

Trickster's grin does not fade, but her pinprick pupils glitter in their sea of maroon. "But I brought you such freedom while I lasted! We felt no fear nor pain nor shame! And I whispered to you in the days, my love, whenever it grew too much to bear, and he could never take me all away."

"I wish he could." Handmaid backed away, wands at the ready. "Stop following me. I don't want you, and _I am not you."_

She leaves, and Trickster does not follow. She does not lose her smile. A Trickster never can.


	40. Rose<3<Terezi, sensory deprivation, T

Step by step, shoes echoing on the cold steel floor, she follows. All the colour she can smell is metallic grey; she concentrates, trying to pick up the lingering warmth and the trace of lavender. She hears soft quick breath and knows she's getting closer. This time she will win, yet again. She told Rose to use her God Tier powers and she refused on grounds of fairness, as Terezi has none, but while Rose is a more than adequate fighter she's not so much for hunting or evading. Is Rose letting her win out of some kind of misunderstanding, or worse, pity? That would be horrible.

Then a tiny piece of glass shatters under her foot, and suddenly she's choking on a cloying floral reek which fills her mind's eye with swirling pink and red and white and yellow.

"'Two, Five, and Seven', courtesy of the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab," says a smug voice, and warm arms wrap invisibly around her. "A present from my mother. I thought the pun worked."

Terezi coughs and cackles, feeling blood rise under her claws through Rose's sleeve. "I love it. Let's hurry, before it fades. I can't wait to see our wounds."


	41. Signless/Disciple, no pail, E

"Oh..." Disciple's eyes fluttered shut, her back arched, her hands tightened around her lover's horns; his blunted claws combed through her hair, and he trailed soft kisses up her neck. Her hair flowed aroundher like a halo, grass catching in the curls.

"Are you alright, love? Comfortable?"

"Better than that!" she murmured. "You know you're not hurting me. I can take anything you could do."

Signless quirked his lip, and slowed his movements. She groaned and thrust up, but he bore his weight down, holding her still. "How about this?"

Disciple scowled briefly, but his hand on her forehead soothed away the creases, wiping away green-tinted sweat, and she relaxed, losing herself in the gentle waves of sensation. No, he was right. They should savour this. She bit her lip, flushing as she thought of how wicked this was, a once-respectable midblood submitting so easily to such gentle attentions from an off-spectrum mutant - a man, to boot, _she_ should have been pinning _him_ down, though that was merely a popular tradition and not a law. Her beloved, her leader, the one troll on Alternia she chose to serve. His flush-red eyes gleamed, shadowed by his moonlit hair, and she grinned up at him. The filthiest, most taboo part was yet to come; merely thinking of it was bringing it closer, though were they caught it would earn them death. Even if there was any risk, which she was sure there was not, she was not afraid. Nothing the Empire could do would scare her as long as Signless was beside her.

Soon enough she was squirming in frustration, hissing between her teeth, clutching him and pushing up hard enough to lift his weight. He noticed, and adjusted the angle of his thrusts, moving deeper, sliding a hand between them and teasing her with one finger.

"I think, my dear," he panted, sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his bare chest, "it may be time. Do you agree?"

"Yes!" she howled, claws sinking into his back, not quite hard enough to draw any of his beautiful blood. "Please, just a little more..."

"Anything for you, my dear." Another finger, a little more pressure, and a careful roll of his hips, and she felt her peak hit, pulling his head down and capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. This was what they had been looking forward to. As she came, she retained enough presence of mind to consciously relax her nook muscles, instead of holding the fluid in until she stood over a pail as she normally would do; her green fluid spilled out over their legs, wasted, drenching the cloak she lay on.

Signless withdrew and sat back on his heels, admiring his work. "You look so beautiful in green, my love."

"I think I'll look better with some red. Join me," Disciple purred, wiping a little fluid off with her finger and sucking it. Signless' eyes and smile widened. They had disposed of their slurry before, of course, but this was the first time they had cut out the pail altogether. She laughed inwardly at how nervous he had been when suggesting the idea, fearful she would be disgusted. Nothing about him could ever disgust her. To not only waste the fluid, spilling it outside a pail, but to consume it... Of course she would take it a step further than he had dared suggest. By the look on his face she had judged correctly when guessing he would be impressed.

She knelt up, and her hands joined his on his slickened bulge, touching as softly as he had touched her. Once she leaned down and licked the tip, it took very little time for him to finish with a gasp, showering scarlet over her and into her open mouth.

They joined in a kiss, filthy and sweet, and got up to go and wash themselves and his cloak in the nearby stream. They watched as the water ran brown, and shared a moment of silence. So much wasted slurry; so many potential grubs fortunate enough to never be hatched into the horrors of the Empire. Perhaps one day it would be safe for them to use a pail. Till then they could hope, and work, and wait.


	42. Eridan/Gamzee, transZee, foot/leg worship, E

Eridan was embarrassed to admit how long it took him to notice. Of course they'd been children when they first met in person, but as they approached adulthood it occurred to Eridan that Gamzee's voice still hadn't changed. He dismissed that, until Gamzee hugged him and something distractingly soft brushed his arm. He had his suspicions after that, but didn't dare confront them for some time, until he found Gamzee snoring in the depths of a soda nap on his couch, wearing only an unbuttoned shirt which rendered the issue very clear. Eridan threw a blanket over the unconscious troll, and waited till he (She? Whatever...) woke up.

Once awake, Gamzee answered his questions in a manner technically accurate but annoyingly unhelpful; a demand to know why Gamzee hadn't told anyone was met with a bleary blink and the words "Was I s'posed to?" Eridan couldn't think of an answer to that. Gamzee did, however, make it abundantly clear that he was still definitely a he. At least for that particular day. Eridan gave up on getting straight answers from Gamzee and resorted to the internet; with a little assistance from Kanaya he found what he needed to know, and decided to leave the topic alone. 

Easier said than done, as it turned out. Well, continuing to think of Gamzee as "he" was less difficult than Eridan has expected, but what he had seen haunted him. Gamzee's preferred baggy clothes hid him well, to the extent that his small chest needed no binding. That wasn't what had held Eridan's attention, though. Gamzee had finally mastered his unicycle, and it had done him good; Eridan's eyes had been drawn past his skinny ribcage and soft belly down to his sprawled legs, no longer scrawny but slender, strong and graceful, leading to well-turned ankles and surprisingly small feet. Very feminine. That, of course, was the problem. From what Eridan had seen, trolls like Gamzee were often uncomfortable with their bodies and did not like to be reminded of their situation; what would remind him more than someone expressing such a fascination?

Eridan sighed and swigged his Faygo, settling back in the wand pile. Gamzee was sitting on the couch, staring vaguely at the TV without really watching it; some dull nature show, demonstrating the migratory patterns and breeding seasons of the best prey species. Eridan already knew them by heart, so he wasn't watching either. Instead he was alternating between watching Gamzee's bare feet peek out from beneath his oversized trouser legs and staring fixedly at the window to avoid Gamzee catching him looking.

Gamzee broke the silence with a sigh and a wrist flick which opened his sylladex and catapulted a bottle of purple nail varnish into his hand. "I can't be havin' with this piece of shit show no more, got better things to be up and doin'. Mind if I get to making with the motherfuckin' pretty?" He swung one foot onto the couch and started to sloppily paint his toeclaws.

Eridan was no longer able to avoid watching. "Um... I thought you, uh, didn't wwant... Isn't that a bit..."

"Eh? Oh, sometimes I get myself a girly day. No motherfuckin' biggie. So do you."

"You saww me in the skirt, huh? Okay, yeah, I guess I can get that. You wwant I should stick with 'he'?" Gamzee shrugged expansively, and Eridan lunged forward to stop him slopping varnish on the couch. "Careful wwith that! Look... howw 'bout I do that for you?" There was a pause, and Eridan was about to start mentally berating himself when Gamzee nodded and handed over the bottle.

Fins twitching, Eridan settled on the floor at Gamzee's feet and mopped up the messy varnish with his handkerchief (ruining it, but he had plenty more). "Does this... bother you?"

"Motherfuck, no, why would it?"

"Well. Um..." Eridan gave up and shrugged. "You're right. No reason." He rolled up the loose cloth and tucked it between the couch and Gamzee's knee, to keep it out of the way and incidentally exposing the slim calf which rested against his arm as he held Gamzee's foot. His face started to burn violet, and he hoped Gamzee didn't look down at him.

Gamzee's other foot slid into his lap, and he started to suspect Gamzee already knew.

He tried to focus on painting the claws. Yellow keratin disappeared under glittery purple, little by little. Eridan's fingers twitched nervously every time his eyes skimmed over the shapely ankle and calf, and that of course made Gamzee's foot move and the varnish smear worse than ever. Without realising it, Eridan moved closer, his breath soft and cold on the bare skin, and his thumb reflexively rubbed circles on the arch. Eridan's gills fluttered and his bloodpusher pounded so hard in his ears he didn't hear Gamzee's breathing quickening too or see him squirming and chewing his lip, until he burst into giggles.

"Gah fuck fish stoppit!"

"Stop wwh-" Eridan looked up in time for Gamzee's other foot to kick him in the chin. "Oww!" He rubbed his jaw and picked up the spilled bottle. "You ruined my fuckin' carpet, asshole."

"Try that again and you's gettin' pailfailed so motherfuckin' hard."

"Implyin' a pail wwoulda been inwolwed otherwwise?"

"No reason why not on my end," Gamzee said, shrugging again. "'m I missin' your motherfuckin' meaning? My lookspheres did catch yours seemin' interested."

"Oh hell yes!" Eridan said before he could think through what he was saying. He paused, and added "If you're sure you're okay wwith this?"

"Why you keep askin' that? Sheesh."

Eridan put Gamzee's foot down and looked him in the eye. "Okay, straight out? You're a guy wwho doesn't, uh, look like one. Doesn't this kind of make it feel obwious? I mean I'm tryin' to be good about it, but it's hard and I don't really understand."

"Oh, that? Eh, don't matter. We're all just motherfuckin' bloodsacks in the end, ya know? Different shaped bloodsack ain't gonna change that. Um, not thinkin' I'm ready for nothin' extreme though." Gamzee's hands moved protectively to his lap. "I don't want nothin' inside there."

"Yeah, okay, no problem. How about..." Eridan knelt up and slipped his fingers under Gamzee's waistband.

"Hey, hey, I just said-"

"No, no, I'm not gonna touch there. I just wwant to be able to..." Of course Gamzee would have to be lacking in undergarments, as usual. Eridan quickly shoved the garment into Gamzee's lap, sat back down, and kept his eyes and hands firmly below Gamzee's knees. "More room to wwork noww and I promise I wwon't look at anythin' ya don't wwant me to."

"Work- ooohh..." Gamzee relaxed as Eridan's fingers pressed into the curve of his calf and slid up to gently but firmly rub behind his knee, then switched to the other leg. "Fuck!" Gamzee's own hand slipped behind the heap of spotted cloth and settled firmly in place, and his foot landed back in Eridan's lap. "Didn't motherfuckin' know that did that to me."

"Heh. Damn, Gam, you got gams."

"Puns now?"

Eridan rested his lips against Gamzee's knee and murmured "You're just jealous 'cause you don't knoww any puns about clowwns."

"Bite me." Eridan ignored him until Gamzee grabbed his horn and shoved his mouth closer, pressing his foot down harder. "No, really, bite me! Use those fuckin' needles you fishtrolls got." Hesitantly, Eridan ran his teeth along the skin. "Harder, you wuss!"

"Tsk tsk, impatient. Wwe're not gonna rush this." Eridan let go long enough to unbutton his fly and free his bulge, keeping his teeth well hidden behind his lips as he licked and kissed the soft crease behind Gamzee's knee; once Gamzee was squirming and whining in frustration, he used his hands again, stroking upwards from the ankle, fingers brushing the fine layer of hair, stopping at mid-thigh and squeezing gently. Gamzee opened his mouth to speak, but Eridan dug his claws in sharply, and it came out as a wail.

"That a good noise or a bad noise?"

"Good! Shit... Got a bucket? Think I'm already wreckin' your motherfuckin' furniture." Eridan decaptchalogued one, and tried to comfortably arrange himself and Gamzee around it; Gamzee shifted to the edge of his seat and Eridan sat to the side, Gamzee's right foot still rubbing up and down in his lap. Eridan was getting badly worked up by now, but couldn't bring himself to take his hands off Gamzee, massaging the taut muscles, tracing the faint veins with his clawtips and tongue, until a steady flow of translucent purple fluid trickled between Gamzee's fingers under the folds of cloth. Eridan sneaked a quick glance for possible future reference; the heel of Gamzee's hand was lodged firmly against his groin, fingers working the outside of his nook, hips rocking against the edge of the fortunately waterproof couch. Gamzee's eyes were squeezed shut, cracking his sweat-stained paint, and his tongue flicked out over his fangs. Eridan decided now was a good time to bring his own into play, found a soft spot on Gamzee's wet inner thigh, and bit down until he tasted blood.

"Holy mirthful shit!" Eridan found himself blinded as his glasses were covered in dark indigo liquid as it sprayed from between Gamzee's fingers, spattering the carpet around the bucket and soaking Eridan's shirt. He held on with his teeth, blood filling his mouth, until Gamzee's frantic rocking movements stopped and the muscles of his thighs went limp.

Eridan sat back, wiped his mouth and glasses, and looked up at the dazed clown. "Fuck, you're a damn sexy man."

Gamzee grinned. "I know. Motherfuckin' nice to find someone else who does." Eridan swatted his hip, and he laughed. "Okay, you wanna be done, how're we gonna do this?... Wait, stand up." He leaned back and bent one leg up and inward, and ran a finger along the crook of his knee. "You like this?"

"Fuckin' hell yeah!" Eridan got his point, and stood up; a little readjustment later and his bulge was settled behind Gamzee's bent knee, lubricated by his own increasing trickle of violet. It was a weird feeling, but not at all unpleasant, and from this angle he couldn't see anything that would make Gamzee uncomfortable for him to look at. He had no particular desire to, either, he reflected, gazing over Gamzee's makeup-smeared blush and hair even more messy than usual. This view was fine.

"You okay there, Gam?"

"Doin' great." Gamzee sounded a little distant - well, more so than usual. He moved his leg slightly, and Eridan inhaled sharply. "You happy?"

"If you are. Look, if you're wworried, I meant what I said. You're as much a guy as you wwanna be. Okay, a guy wwith fuckin' pretty gams, but eweryone's got legs, right? Or starts out wwith 'em, in Taw's case..." He caught Gamzee's glare, and hurriedly said "Sorry, I ain't good at this, but you get my point, right? This makes no difference and I'm not gonna tell anyone."

"Yeah, yeah, I do. Thanks," Gamzee said, smiling, and brought his other foot up to rub against the tip of Eridan's bulge. "'Sides, if you told you might risk havin' to motherfuckin' share."

"Holy fuck..." Eridan braced his hands on the back of the couch and shifted his hips, gently at first, soon settling into a steady rhythm, dripping violet onto Gamzee's rumpled shirt. "No. Don't wwanna share. Wwell, someday I'll hawe to but drone season's ages awway. For noww you're fuckin' mine. Keep your godawwful baggy pants, I take back all the stupid comments I made about your dress sense, don't you dare let anyone else ewen see how fuckin' gorgeous you are till wwe got no choice. Please, Gam..."

"Well..." Gamzee mused, running his toeclaws up and down Eridan's chest. "If we make this official, you only gotta share with one."

At that, Eridan didn't even last long enough to aim for the bucket. Well, Gamzee had done the same to him, fair was fair. Gamzee's white face paint, already melting away, disappeared entirely under the violet fluid, and his shirt clung stickily to his body; Eridan shuddered and pulled slowly, reluctantly, away.

"Official?" he said, once his voice was under control. "Wwhat, like, red?"

"Well, yeah. Dunno about you but I ain't this nice to my black quads." Gamzee pulled him down to the couch and sat up, pulling at his ruined shirt. It clung to his breasts, and he scowled; Eridan rubbed his shoulder and he leaned into it, purring. "Aw, shit," he said with a chuckle, examining the glittery toeclaws on his left foot. "We only up and finished one."

"Aww shit indeed. Can't leawe 'em not matching, that's just tacky." Eridan raised a hand. "Gimme a feww minutes, then I'll get to it. Might as wwell make all the mess wwe're gonna make at once."


	43. Gl'bgolyb/Mindfang, E

Salt stings her airways as she finally inhales, choking on the withdrawing limb. She coughs up water, the burn washing away slime from her tongue. She struggles for her dice; her clothes are gone, with them her pockets. She is exposed, bruised and pinched by suckers, freezing, drowning, ropey tentacles thrashing painfully in her.

The Condesce perches atop a motionless arch of tentacle, feet dangling in the waves, watching her lusus defile her captive nemesis.

"Hate you," Mindfang coughs. "Platonically."

"Don't learn, do you, guppy? Whale then, go ahead, Mommy dear." Condesce waves, and Mindfang plunges into the water again.


	44. Cronus & Horuss, consensual vivisection, M

"Okay, this? This is fuckin' vweird."

"Stop complaining, I'm not holding you here. If you don't want to do it, leave."

"Fine. So after I'm done I get revwarded, right?" Cronus wiggled his fins suggestively.

"We'll see." Horuss parted his legs to let Cronus kneel between them, and looked down at the flat planes of his stomach and chest. "I do apologise for pulling you into this, but Rufioh would not wish to hurt me, and Meulin is surprisingly squeamish for one so bonded with a carnivorous species. I trust you to do as I say, foolish as others may call that trust, and I have seen you do this before."

"Yeah, vwith fish. If you're so curious, why not just hack up a beast?"

Horuss' white eyes glittered angrily. "What? I would never presume to force my selfish will upon a helpless creature in such a way!"

Cronus slapped his forehead with the hand not holding the scalpel. "Zahhak, they're fuckin' imaginary beasts! Vwe're still dead, yanno."

"Regardless. Should our dancestors and their friends succeed in their mission, we may find ourselves back in the world of the living, and I don't wish to set a precedent."

"Izzat vwhy you disinfected?" Horuss nodded and lay back, gesturing impatiently, and Cronus sighed. "Okay, here vwe go..."

"You're holding the scalpel wrong."

Cronus adjusted his grip and placed the blade tip at Horuss' throat, pecking nervously at the skin with it until Horuss growled at him. He didn't mean to be so awkward, but doing this, particularly in Horuss' under-lit and generally creepy hive, wasn't putting him in a good mood. He swallowed, pressed until the skin split beneath it, and drew it down to belt level, relaxing as he watched the blue blood rise. Okay, he could do this. Using his fingers, he pulled the skin apart and attached the clamps Horuss had given him to hold the wound open.

"Don't be so hesitant now. The muscle layer requires a STRONG movement to open. 'A veritable blow', the textbook says... stop laughing!"

Cronus muffled his snickers and examined the exposed muscle. Horuss no longer needed to breathe or circulate blood, so the flesh was oddly motionless in comparison to the face above it. That was fortunate. Cronus wasn't sure he could have cut into a breathing troll. He took a deep and unnecessary breath himself, tried to stop his arm shaking, and plunged the blade in.

Horuss tensed, hissing through his teeth and starting to sweat, as the scalpel drew through him, leaving a deep valley which opened to expose white ribs and lukewarm blue organs. Cronus opened his eyes again, and looked at his handiwork. "Vwowv! This is kinda cool, actually. I guess it vwould be vworse if your guts vwere still doin' anythin'..." he mused. He inhaled surreptitiously, encountering only the metallic smell of fresh meat. "You hurtin', chief?"

"A little, yes, but that's to be expected," Horuss said, craning his neck to look at the wound. "Once one gets in deeper the nerves become less sensitive, it should be perfectly bearable from now on."

"Yeah?" Cronus grinned, reached into the opening, pulled out the first thing he grabbed, and danced away, laughing.

"Ampora!"

"I got it, I got your... vwhat the fuck is this thing?"

"I think that's my left blood-filter, and I'd like it back."

"Oh yeah, I see vhwat it is nowv..." Cronus threw the kidney back at Horuss, and it hit him in the face, causing Cronus to collapse laughing.

"Stop fooling around!" Horuss snapped, wiping sticky blue from his face. "Did you agree to this or did you not?"

"Sorry, sorry," Cronus spluttered, and sat back down. "Hey, I got a thought... try breathin' again?"

"Hm? Very well..." Horuss took a deep breath, and his ribcage inflated, then slowly relaxed as he let the breath go. He tried again a few more times, placing his huge fingers up under his ribs to better appreciate the sensation. Cronus watched, touching his own gills with one hand, and let his other hand join Horuss' to better appreciate the difference.

"This is really, really fucked up, ya knowv that? First time I got my fingers in another troll and it's in their glubbin' airsacs. Evwen I don't vwanna put my bulge in there."

Horuss opened one eye and murmured "Language."

"Huh, this takes me back. Remember the vwand pile?"

"Ha. Yes. Both of our first times, wasn't it?"

"Don't you got a moirail nowv though?"

"I think, with the best will in the world, this could not be described as a feelings jam."

"Oh, so if ya don't release it ain't cheatin'? Svweet, am I gettin' my payment in the red then?"

"Shut up. This experience is not pale, it is merely a biological experiment."

"Experiment. Sure." Cronus slid his fingers under the lungs, feeling the odd spongy texture, grimaced, and shifted to the smooth and oddly pleasant wetness of the liver. He was blue to the wrist now, and blood was collecting under his claws.

Horuss opened his eyes. "Could you perhaps remove some pieces so I may examine them more closely?" Cronus nodded, grabbed the liver, and yanked. "Ow! Not so hard!" Horuss took the organ from the apologetic seatroll, and sniffed it curiously.

"I can't beliewve you're so cool about this," Cronus muttered, unlooping some intestine and running it curiously through his fingers.

"Why not? It's not as if I can die again from it."

"Yeah, but - oh my god, that's disgustin'!" Cronus backed away, shuddering, as Horuss sat up, causing his intestines to land in a pile on the floor, and bit deeply into his own liver.

Under Cronus' horrified gaze, Horuss chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. He looked up, and said, not apologetically but as if instructing a young troll, "I have not eaten meat since I was able to make the moral decision for myself. I was curious as to whether troll tastes the same as I remember beast meat, and I can't very well take a bite out of another troll." He held out the dripping meat, and smiled. "Try some?"

Cronus reached out and ran his fingers over the flesh, and sniffed them, unwilling to actually take any. This felt uncomfortably intimate as it was. Horuss looked expectantly at him, and he screwed up his eyes and licked. It wasn't terrible. He could imagine he'd just bitten his lip, though it was warmer and more bitter than that. He looked, and saw Horuss beaming at him, just before he took another bite. Cronus saw movement in his open throat, and soon the muscles of his gastric bag started flexing and twisting at the bottom of his ribcage. Cronus swallowed hard, and imagined his hands clean. A bonus of being in dreambubbles, though he'd be imagining up some soap and very hot water later.

"So, is it?"

"Eh?"

"Is it like beast meat?" Cronus silently prayed Horuss wouldn't say it was better.

Horuss shook his head. "Not entirely dissimilar, but I don't think I'll be trying either again."

"So, um, are vwe done?"

Horuss removed the clamps and ran his hand gently up and down the wound, packing his insides back in with the other. It healed as he went, leaving no trace. He nodded, and said "I think so, yes. What, not going to stick around and demand a reward again?"

Cronus chuckled fearfully. "Ya knowv vwhat? I'm good. Really."

He turned to leave, and found an enormous hand wrapped irremovably around his wrist. Horuss looked up, smile gleaming in the shadows, and picked up the scalpel.

"Then it's your turn."


End file.
